No Place That Far
by Jethro's Jen
Summary: Jethro Gibbs would walk through fire, ford flooded rivers and climb Mt. Everest for Jenny Shepard. But when "death" takes her from him, is he willing to follow? Post Judgement Day with a much more satisfying outcome.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own the characters of NCIS. I only borrow them to play and will return them unharmed. The title and lyrics are from No Place That Far recorded by Sara Evans**

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**Chapter One**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs held it together through the investigation. Held back the tears in front of his team and the dignitaries gathered around the graveside. Kept his face emotionless as the lone bugler played taps and the honor guard folded the flag. Gritted his teeth to still the quivering in his chin when the SecNav presented the three-cornered bundle of fabric to him as her only family, the words of condolence barely registering in his ears. He'd even offered Tony and Ziva a reassuring smile when the guilt finally buckled their knees. But now, in the quietness of the deserted cemetery, with the late spring breeze carrying a hint of her perfume, he crumbled.

Grief slammed into his gut with all the power of a prize fighter's hardened fists. His knees gave way beneath the soul shattering sobs and he crashed to the ground beside the fresh mound of dirt. Tears stole his words so his soul screamed his pain to the universe. Why God? Why now? Why?

This time, there were no whispered answers like with Kelly and Shannon. No drug lord to seek revenge on. No real reason for Jenny's sacrifice despite Ducky's assurance this was the best way for her to go. Jennifer Shepherd was a fighter. Together, they could have beaten anything the world threw at them. So why didn't she stay and fight?

_I can't imagine any greater fear than waking up without you here._

Jethro swiped his tears with bruised knuckles. He'd always kidded Jenny about a sappy country song making her cry. He could almost see her face, green eyes red rimmed and nose, nearing crimson as she tried to explain the emotion's stirred by Sara Evan's lyrics. "It's the truth behind those words," she sniffed.

Though not usually a fan of such girlish ballads, he listened over and over again because she loved the song. And he loved her. Slowly, it became the fifth song he listened to when life begged for a melody.

"You were right, Jen." The black granite headstone was cold beneath his fingertips. Thoughts of her 'I told you so' smirk urged a wobbly smile to his lips. "You'll think I'm going soft when I tell you this." He chuckled between the lingering tears. "But then again, you could always make me go a little weak."

Swallowing, he forced the rest of his confession past his lips. "Jen, the song was right. _If I had to run. It I had to crawl._" He traced the letters of her name etched deep into the stone. "_If I had to swim a hundred rivers just to climb a thousand walls, always know that I would find a way to where you are._" Leaning over, he pressed his lips to the corner of the hard monument. "And I would, Jen. Even today, I would because…_There's no place that far._"

~.~.~.~.~

Leon Vance shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. Standing on the knoll above the graveyard, he thanked God he wasn't in Gibbs' shoes. If he ever lost Jackie…"So I see he isn't made of stone."

"Humans rarely are, Director." Dr. Mallard's sigh seemed to make the stoop of his shoulders a little more pronounced. "And despite rumors to the contrary, Jethro is as human as the rest of us."

Tamping down the guilt of being party to this painful deception, Leon turned to face the trusted medical examiner. "You think he's up for this?"

"Gibbs is the consummate Marine." Although the good doctor's eyes were locked on the lone man kneeling beside the fresh grave, his gaze was much farther away. "Bound by honor with duty placed above all else. But if this was any other case, I'd have to say no." He turned to face Leon. "However, this isn't any other case."

The slender strip of wood splintered beneath the worried grinding of his teeth. He'd been afraid of this since the moment the scheme was hatched. "So you think I should find someone else for this assignment? Think his emotions might get in the way?"

A half smile contorted Ducky's lips. His shoulders straightened and the beginnings of a jovial twinkle stirred in the sad blue depths of his eyes. "On the contrary, Leon." He adjusted his fedora against the stiffened breeze. "Those emotions are what will keep her safe." Shoving his hands deep into his trench coat pockets, he started back toward the black SUV parked just out of sight. Leon easily kept pace with the older man. "Jethro is exactly the man you need for this job, Director." His steps slowed and he glanced back over his shoulder. "And this job is exactly what that man needs."

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for the wonderful reviews. They are tremendously welcomed.**

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**Chapter Two**

Ducky swirled the amber liquid, studying the reddish hue given by the dance of flames along the hearth. Not one given to inebriation, tonight he was tempted to give into the potent numbing properties of the twenty year old scotch. It had been a damned hard day and the ones to follow looked bloody impossible. Especially for his family. The one formed, not by blood, but by trust and allegiance.

Taking the bottle from the tea table beside him, he poured a generous splash of the libation into his glass then handed the container to the man seated beside him on the battered sofa. The haggard expression spoke of sleepless nights and worries born too long alone. Special Agent Jethro Gibbs might appear to be the rock of Gibraltar, but he was a rock about to crumble.

Silence lingered as Ducky took a long sip from his tumbler. Collected his thoughts then allowed the slow burn of aged malt to clear a path for the words. "Are you sure you are up to this Jethro?"

His friend stared into the barely touched glass of whiskey, a shadow of a smile playing near his lips. "You not still worried about today at the cemetery, are ya Duck?"

Despite the confidence he had in this man he loved like a brother, nothing could placate the doubt churning in his stomach. After all, this would be the deepest cover of Jethro's career. "You have to admit, you were a little…emotional."

The gruff chuckle was a balm in the silence. "A little?" Blue eyes twinkled beneath arched brows. "Come on, Duck. I was a damn basket case." Taking the first sip of his drink, Jethro let his guard down. Allowed a glimpse of the mortal beneath the stone façade.

"Even though I know Jenny isn't…" He closed his eyes, his adam's apple trembling for a moment. "Today…"

Ducky winced at the echo of brokenness. Poor Jethro and Jennifer had already been through Hell and back and would descend again before this bloody mess was over. Feeling helpless in the face of the impending hurricane, he laid his hand on his comrade's shoulder and prayed for strength as the silence lingered.

"Today just felt so real," Jethro finally managed. Tears mottled the steel blue depths of his eyes. "It gave me a glimpse of what could have been if…"

Ducky squeezed the team leader's shoulder. "But it didn't, Jethro. It didn't." He smiled as a little of the tension eased from the muscles beneath his hand. "I know the journey ahead may be a long one –"

Jethro shook his head, a hint of joy forcing its way through the cloud of concern. "Don't worry Duck. When it comes to Jenny, no journey's too long." He swallowed, his voice softening to a bare whisper. "No place is too far."

Of that, Ducky was sure. Theirs was a matched destined from the foundations of the earth. And despite the love Jethro surely shared with Shannon, he'd confided nothing compared to what he felt for the former Director.

"She really okay, Duck?"

Although Jethro's voice was steady, his furrowed brow and wide eyes betrayed his concern. Ducky smiled gently and patted the man's shoulder. Although the x-rays, blood tests and diagnosis were all part of the elaborate ruse – which Jethro himself helped plan – he'd needed constant reassurance. Almost as if he was afraid the charade would become his reality.

"She's just fine, Jethro." Ducky's grin twitched as images of the stolen moments he'd been privy to rolled through his mind. "Though I'm sure she will be even better once Director Vance delivers you to her, safe and sound."

Jethro nodded, the renewed twinkle in his eyes the only hint of his relief. He drained the contents of his glass, placed it on the table beside the bottle the relaxed against the couch's threadbare cushions. Staring into the fire, he seemed lost in thought. After fifteen years of friendship, Ducky knew better than to break the silence.

"You trust him, Duck?"

Ah. So now they were getting to the heart of the matter. Always aware no place was completely immune to surveillance, Ducky rolled the crystal tumbler between his hands and weighed his words carefully. "I believe Leon Vance is a great many things. Most of which serve him well as Director. But trustworthy?" He turned, lifted his glass to his companion and winked. "Why do you think I kept you in the loop even before Jenny took you into her confidence?"

He drained the room temperature liquid, glad to see the cocky smirk return to his friend's lips. It really had been missing far too long. "What about you? Do you trust our illustrious leader?"

Jethro chuckled as he leaned forward to retrieve his glass. Pouring enough scotch to coat the bottom, he returned Ducky's salute, a mischievous gleam in his clear blue orbs. "Why do you think I decided to keep my team in the loop?"

For the first time in days, Ducky laughed. The deep belly shaking kind he so rarely enjoyed in his line of work. "Touché, my friend. Touché."

All too soon, the seriousness of the day pressed in again. Empathy for the team mixed with the fear of their reaction when the deception was revealed to form a bitter tonic. But alas, as much as he, Jethro and Jenny trusted Abby and the others, the delicate nature of the circumstances made it impossible to include them in the scheme. Until now.

Glancing at his friend, Ducky noticed the gold band encircling Jethro's left ring finger. Guilt-tempered happiness oozed into the crevices between the other emotions when he remembered the nervous tremor in Jethro's hand as Jenny slid the wedding band into place, sealing her vows beneath the vicar's watchful gaze. Once they returned from their secret and all too brief honeymoon, the ring took up residence alongside the dog tags the former Marine still wore beneath his shirt. "I see the rumors of Jennifer's demise aren't the only things to be put to rest tonight."

Uncertainty crept into the curl of Jethro's barely there smile. He twisted the ring around his finger and sighed. "You know what they say, Duck. In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides." The shrug was almost imperceptible, like the feelings betrayed by his words. "Thought it might help the guys understand all of this. Realize just how important…" He swallowed, his eyes starting to disclose his true emotions. "I just wish Jenny could be here to make the announcement with me." He grinned for a moment. "Help deflect a little of Abby's exuberance."

A whisper of lavender infiltrated the air a second before her sultry alto filtered into the room from the door. "Good thing I can still make your wishes come true, Jethro."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Quiet waters didn't run deep enough when it came to the magical pull of one Jennifer Sheppard-Gibbs. Before the trained to never show emotion side of his brain could clamp down on his free will, Jethro was on his feet. He crossed the room before his heart could deliver another beat and pulled her into his arms.

Despite the passion pounding against every fiber, he forced himself to be gentle when he took possession of her lips. Mindful of the ordeal she'd endured a mere five days ago, he timidly explored. Absorbed her tremors as his tongue stroked hers in invitation. Offered her every breath until she went a little limp in his arms and the room started to tilt.

She was here. In his arms. And even though today had been part of the charade, the possibility was real. His love for her was real. The pain of separation, albeit a brief one, was real. Releasing her mouth, he buried his face in her hair. Drew air into his lungs. Let the tears of relief flow as the reality of his life filled him beyond capacity and held his facilities for coherent speech hostage.

Slowly, the infusion of the citrusy fragrance of her shampoo pushed away all thoughts of what could have been and gave him strength enough to relax the near death grip he had on her. Easing away far enough to see her beautiful face, he found his voice in the twinkle of her green eyes and the feeling of her soft cheek beneath his fingertip. "What are you doing here, Jen?"

Before she could answer, Jethro turned his attention to the man standing just beyond the threshold. He skewered him with a glare. "Why'd you bring her here, Tobias?"

"Because, unlike you, I don't have a death wish, Jethro." The somber frown was softened by the glint of mischief. "Besides, you know how stubborn redheads are."

"Almost as stubborn as former Marines turned federal agents," Jenny groaned.

Laughter shook off the final hold tension had on his body. Then the distant sound of footsteps on gravel prickled the hairs along his neck. Or was it the night breezes forcing the overgrown grass against the abandoned house's siding? He glanced at his friend. With a slight nod, Tobias disappeared into the corridor.

Sobered by the reminder how much danger she was still in, Jethro focused on his wife. Still safe within the circle of his embrace and yet she wasn't protected enough. If he could, he would draw her into the shell of his own skin. "Jen."

It was all he could manage. Pulling her closer, he rested his chin against the top of her head and closed his eyes. If anything happened to her now…

"Jethro."

The deep baritone tugged his attention, his eyelids snapping open. Tobias shook his head slightly and shrugged.

Relief buckled Jethro's knees, but he didn't let Jenny know that. The irritation his excitement had overpowered when she first walked in surfaced, its power increased tenfold. He stepped away, holding her at arms length, his fingers clenched around her shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking, Jen? You know you were supposed to wait in – "

Fireworks exploded in the green depths. "I'm well aware of protocol, Agent Gibbs." The words hissed through her teeth. "I'm also aware of the emptiness in my bed since this whole phase of the operation began." She pushed her shoulders against his hands until he had no choice but to bend his elbows, allowing her to move closer. So close it seemed the very fabric of their clothing melded into the other. "I'm tired of waiting, Jethro. And a few hours difference in our reunion isn't going to hurt anything." Her soft smile urged his arms around her waist. Her fingertips left a heated trail against his jaw. "Believe it or not, sweetheart, I missed you."

No doubt about it. He was a goner. But he wouldn't smile. Then the sigh betrayed him and raised the corners of his mouth. "Okay. But you get to break the news to Tobias."

Tobias pushed away from the wall, his ulcer flaming deep in his gut. Why couldn't just one assignment in his life go down without some SNAFU gumming up the works? "What news?"

Ducky patted the vacant space on the sofa. The knowing gleam in his blue eyes was downright irritating. "Perhaps it would be better if you were sitting down for this, Agent Fornell."

"Yeah, Tobias." Jethro's chuckle did little to unknot the worry. "I know I was glad to have my butt in a seat when Ducky told Jenny and me after the incident in the diner."

"Told you what?" Tobias took a step closer to the couch but stopped short of sitting. From the smiles and mischief dancing on these people's faces, the news had to be good. But the past had shown what a twisted sense of humor they could have. Maybe it was better if he stood his ground. That way he could run screaming into the night without too much added effort. "Come on, guys. Tell me already."

Jenny glanced at Jethro, the exchange quick but crackling with intensity. When they looked back at him, Tobias was sure Gibbs had tears in his eyes.

"Well, Tobias." Jenny's voice was as shaky as her smile. "By the time this case is over, there is a very good chance you'll be an honorary uncle."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Jethro chuckled when Tobias' knees gave way leaving the agent no choice but to flop down beside Ducky. "Tried to tell ya, Tobias. Some news is better taken with your ass on a solid surface."

"Jethro." After the last few days, the warmth of Jenny's voice mixed with the softness of her curves pressed against him was enough to make his own knees go a little weak. "Don't laugh. You didn't fare much better when Ducky told us."

He rolled his eyes, a protest poised on his lips until a British accent tipped with amusement interrupted.

"Jennifer is quite right, Jethro." The good doctor groaned slightly when he twisted to retrieve the scotch and a fresh glass from the tea table. "If I remember correctly, you were seated when I gave you the good news." He poured a liberal amount of the amber colored spirits into the tumbler then pressed it into Fornell's hand. "And yet you would have taken a header off the stool if it hadn't been for the grip your dear wife had on your shoulder."

Heat touched Jethro's ears and slowly migrated toward his cheeks. "That was exhaustion, Duck. I'd been up for thirty-six hours by that point, dealing with the fiasco at the…"

Even though Jenny was safe. Despite the steady strum of her heart against his chest, he couldn't bring himself to relive those terrifying moments at the diner. The paralyzing seconds when the assassins burst through the door and time slowed to a standstill. The split second before the first gunman raised his weapon…

"I see your point, Jethro." Ducky's tone was a mixture of melancholy and relief.

Silence descended like a comfortable blanket. Jenny snuggled deeper into his embrace. For the first time in days, Jethro found peace in the midst of the seemingly endless storm.

"Vance know any of this?" Obviously the amber liquid had freed Tobias' vocal cords.

Jethro raised an eyebrow and glared at his friend.

"Dumb question," the still shocked agent mumbled. He lifted the tumbler and drained its contents. "What about your team?"

Jenny cleared her throat softly and turned in Jethro's arms to face the FBI agent. Jethro's hands slid around her slim waist to settle just above the snap on her jeans. His heart constricted then galloped to catch the next beat as images of his wife, the pregnancy advancing, danced through his mind. He could almost feel the flutter of their child against his palms.

"Between my resurrection and our marriage, the team is going to be shocked enough." Jen's voice held the hint of regret resonating in his own heart. "And before you ask." A smile wove through her words. "No. Leon doesn't know about the marriage either."

"And he's not going to," Jethro added.

The only hint of surprise was the slight twitch of Tobias' right eyebrow. "So who don't you trust? The team? Or Director Vance?"

"It isn't a matter of trust, Agent Fornell." The ME stood and sauntered toward the fireplace, his hands clutched behind his back. "In fact, I would dare say we trust the team with our very lives." Ducky missed his calling. With his gift for carefully choosing words, he really should have been a diplomat. "However, we all know the more people involved with the specifics of a mission – "

"The bigger the risk." Fornell sighed and rolled the empty glass between his palms, looking a little irritated. "Undercover 101," he groaned. Lifting his eyes to the happy couple for the first time since they broke the news, he offered a conspiratory grin. "Playing this one pretty close to the vest, huh Gibbs?" His eyes shifted to Jenny, a soft, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Not that I blame you."

Jethro smirked, a sarcastic reply ready to roll off his tongue. Then Jenny swayed a little in his arms, her yawn uncharacteristic. Concern swept everything else from his brain as he shifted enough to study her face. "You okay, Jen?"

She turned slightly. Contentment and elation twinkled beneath the tiredness shadowing her emerald eyes. "I'm fine, Jethro." Her smile was as soft as the brush of her fingers against his cheek. "Seems I don't sleep well in a cold, lonely bed anymore."

He captured her fingers and held them against his jaw. "Jen, you gotta take care of yourself. Especially now."

"Jethro – "

"Jethro's right, Jennifer." Ducky's gentle agreement may have interrupted her protest, but it didn't quell the flash of independence in her glare. Yet the physician was unfazed. "Exhaustion is quite common in the first trimester. And rest is the best remedy, my dear." He glanced at his watch. "It's over two hours until the team arrives, so I prescribe a short, regenerative nap for our mother-to-be."

"I'm fine, Dr. Mallard." But even Jenny's stubbornness couldn't resist the fatherly arch of their oldest friend's brow. "Oh, all right," she huffed." Stepping out of Jethro's embrace, she started toward the open door beside the fireplace. Before she took more than three steps, she reached for Jethro's hand and tugged. "But if I have to rest, then so do you, Agent Gibbs."

Jethro fought to hide his smile. No way was he refusing an enticing offer like that. Especially not from the fiery redhead who wore his ring. Wordlessly, he nodded to the two men he trusted beyond all others and followed his bride into the small bedroom.

The heat from the chimney made the room cozy against the chill of the Blue Ridge's night air. With the soft glow of lamplight casting shadows in the corners and on the ceiling and the pull of the feather mattress stretched between the sleigh bed's head and footboards, this could be a honeymooner's haven. If there weren't two guests on the other side of the thin walls. And the fact they were about to go into hiding from an unknown enemy.

Jen released his had and moved to the bed he'd made with the clean sheets and quilts he found in a couple of the antique oak dresser's drawers while he waited for Ducky to arrive. Maybe his gut knew all along she'd show up that urged his exploration of the tiny cabin. Or maybe it was the ingrained orderliness of a Marine that made him make up a bed he never planned to use. Whatever it was, he was glad he'd listened.

Once his wife turned down the blankets, she sat on the side of the bed and pulled off her hiking boots. Her green eyes beckoned and Jethro complied without hesitation. Toeing off his shoes as he went, Jenny had barely stretched out on the bed before he was beside her. Turning on his side, he reached for the sheets and quilts before pulling her to him, spooning her back against his chest beneath the downy comfort.

"I love you, Jethro," she whispered as she rested her hand over his where it covered her stomach.

He pressed his lips to her hair, inhaling the sweet scent that was his Jenny. "Love you too, Jen." As her breathing slowed to the gentle rise and fall of sleep, he closed his eyes. As slumber called, he was more certain than ever there was not place far enough to keep him from her side. And no cost too high to pay.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

After Kate, Tony drank himself into an oblivion that lasted two weeks. His salvation then had been a convicted serial killer and Agent Paula Cassidy. He couldn't allow the attractive newcomer to see his weakness. And he damn sure couldn't let her appear to be the better investigator. Like some magic bullet, ego and competition diluted his need for alcohol's numbing properties. By the time the case was over and Cassidy left, the scars of Kate's death had healed enough to move on.

But Cassidy wasn't here. And the one other person who might spark a recovery was drowning in her own guilt. Sliding onto an empty stool, he motioned for the bartender. "Bourbon, my good man. And make it a double."

The bartender nodded then reached for a clean glass. A quick wipe with the bar towel and it was ready for the golden stream of rock gut. Tony's taste buds tingled with a blend of anticipation and disgust. The first few glasses were always the hardest. But once he'd numbed both tongue and throat, the rest would slide down easily. Drown his guilt and anesthetize his soul.

"Earlier today, traffic came to a grinding halt as the funeral procession of NCIS…"

Try as he might, Tony couldn't resist the pull of the television above the bar. After all, he'd been in the middle of the parade of black government-issued cars. He wasn't just some curious by-stander on the street. He wasn't just some political junkie who followed the career of the first female director of an armed government agency. He was one of the ones blessed enough to call her…

Video footage of Jenny scrolled across the screen and he closed his eyes. He didn't need to see those. Hell, he'd been there for most of them. Besides, he'd see them again every time he closed his eyes and tried to sleep in the coming weeks. Turning away, he reached for his drink only to find a set of thick fingers already wrapped around the glass.

"Whatcha think you're doin', DiNozzo?"

~.~.~.~.~

Ducky eased the bedroom door open and peered inside. He couldn't resist the upward tug on his lips as the sleeping couple came into view. Whoever said you could tell the state of a relationship by the way the couple slept together must have used Jethro and Jennifer as test subjects.

Even in sleep, Jethro shielded her with his body. She was tucked close against him as he curled around her until she almost disappeared. Yet he didn't squash her. Didn't hold on so tightly that she had to struggle to breathe. It was quite clear that she was his treasure. And the former director wouldn't have it any other way.

Hesitant to wake them, Ducky had little choice. The team would be here in ten minutes…Unless Mike encountered some obstacle between the roadside rest area and the cabin. And since the former agent was the one who suggested his one time summer hideaway, that was highly unlikely.

"Jethro." Having encountered quite a few Marines with his friend's combat experience, Ducky knew it was preferable to make one's presence known before approaching. One to many painful meetings with a flying elbow or fist had proven a great teacher on that subject.

"Jethro." He made his way close enough to touch the former gunny's foot. Leaning over, he made contact with the special agent's ankle. "Time to get up, my friend."

"Heard ya the first time, Duck," Jethro growled. Slowly, so as not to disturb the exhausted woman beside him, he rolled to his back. His eyelids worked rapidly until he managed to open them a fraction. "They here yet?"

Ducky shook his head. "On their way." He swept his eyes across Jennifer's still sleeping form and quickly assessed that she was indeed just sleeping. Perhaps Jethro wasn't alone in his paranoia after all. "Franks called from the rest area. They should be here in about ten minutes."

"Then we'll be out in five." Jenny's voice was thick with sleep. She reached for Jethro's arm and drew it over her like a blanket then snuggled deeper into his embrace.

~.~.~.~.~

Yet another low hanging branch scraped along Tony's scalp. Why the hell were they trekking through the woods in the middle of the night anyway? Shoving the branch out of the way, he stumbled over another exposed root. Only the solidness of the tangled limb in his hand kept him upright.

"Hey Franks!" Between the stitch in his side and the boulders in his shoes, Tony was struggling to keep up with the self-appointed troop leader. "Think we could slow up a bit." He shivered as a shrill howl came from somewhere beyond the tree line. "Give the wolves a fighting chance."

"We could, DiNozzo," Mike growled. "If I hadn't wasted time by havin' to drag your ass off that barstool." He took another drag off his cigarette then increased the pace by another half step. "Let's shake a leg people. We've still got half a mile to go."

Luckily, Franks' half mile turned out to be about a hundred yards. The cabin was ramshackled but the soft glow of lamplight somewhere beyond the darkened windows was a welcomed sight. Given the distance from town and the terrain, Tony was just thankful it wasn't some bat infested cave.

Then the door swung open and a familiar balding FBI agent stepped onto the porch. Fornell's gun was drawn and pointed in the direction of the trail the team had just left. He looked surly and drained. It was a combination that gave any normal agent an itchy trigger finger. And since Fornell wasn't any normal agent… Suddenly the idea of doing battle with bloodsucking flying rodents didn't seem like such a bad proposition.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Jenny winked at him in the bathroom mirror then picked up the tube of lipstick and carefully loaded the tiny brush. God he'd missed watching her prepare for the day. The way she ran the brush through her hair, the vanity's lights turning the highlights to spun gold against the underlying auburn. The graceful movements of her hands as she applied her make-up or twisted her curls into a messy bun. It was these simple things. These tiny details that filled him with an unexpected serenity. And marriage had only intensified those feelings.

For the first time in a week, everything was as it should be in Jethro's world. Sighing, he tore his attention from his wife. He prayed with every breath things would stay this way. He tugged on one hiking boot and quickly did up the laces. If only this ordeal were over with.

The gentle rap of knuckles against wood catapulted his heart against his ribs. His fingers were just about to curl around his Sig's grip when a familiar British baritone filtered across the barrier of the door. "May I come in?"

Jethro relaxed and glanced over his shoulder at Jenny. She smiled and nodded slightly then started to gather the myriad of cosmetics on the counter. Why she thought she needed all that stuff was beyond him. He refocused on his other boot and the good doctor waiting on the other side of the closed door. "Sure thing, Duck."

Light from the den spilled into the room before his friend entered and blocked the glow. Fifteen years of reading the medical examiner's expression told Jethro something was weighing heavily on Ducky's mind. It was written on the deep furrows of his brow, the slight pucker of his lips and the careful way he closed the door. "Care to share, Duck?"

Ducky nodded at Jenny as she walked out of the bathroom then sighed. The long, soul cleansing breath that often preceded the kind of revelation, which renewed the sense of kinship. The air thickened as the man waited for Jenny to take a seat on the bed beside Jethro. "I've been thinking about your team, Jethro."

"Are they here?"

Jenny started to rise but Ducky stilled her with a wave of his hand. "Not quite yet, my dear." He peeked over his shoulder at the closed door. "Though Tobias is probably en route with them as we speak."

If that was the case, Jethro knew they didn't have time for Ducky to get sidetracked. "What about the team, Duck?"

Well." Ducky rubbed his thumb against his other palm, watching the motion with seemingly great interest. Yet another sign that he was struggling with something. "I was thinking. Perhaps it would be better if you allowed me to break the news about Jennifer's resurrection."

Jethro arched an eyebrow and studied his friend for a moment. "Why the concern? The team's used to handling the unexpected."

"The unexpected yes." Ducky stopped pacing and turned to face them. "But Jethro, this is more than a piece of unexpected evidence or a clear cut cause of death that suddenly becomes murky." He took a step closer, his eyes almost pleading for understanding. "We are talking about the reappearance of someone they thought was dead. Someone Tony and Ziva found lifeless on the diner's floor." He shuddered slightly and Jethro felt the ripple in his own heart. "For them it would be like Caitlin suddenly reappearing in the middle of the bullpen."

Part of him knew the ME had a valid point. But another part couldn't believe his team's ability was being questioned. He'd trained them to handle anything a situation threw at them. For Ducky to think…The dogged determination of a Marine rose quickly and peppered the words lining up on his tongue. "Dr. Mallard –"

The warmth of Jenny's hand against his thigh quelled his ire faster than a bucket of ice water. "Ducky's right, sweetheart. This has nothing to do with their training or their abilities as NCIS agents." Her smile was soft and a spark of pride flashed in the green depths of her eyes. "Because of you, they are the best of the best. But something like this…" Regret tugged on the brightness in the emerald depths and flattened the corners of her mouth. "This is personal for them, Jethro. They've been out of the loop on this one. They need a little warning."

His sigh pushed his lips into a lopsided grin. He tucked a stray highlighted curl behind her ear then allowed his hang to linger against her cheek. Flashes of the pain he'd felt even though he knew the plan sprinkled his view. And with the team in the dark until now…

"You're right, Jen." Reluctantly, he broke away from her gaze and turned to the man whose compassion often kept Jethro from going too far overboard. "Okay, Duck. What do you need us to do?"

~.~.~.~.~

Although he'd convinced Jethro this was the correct way to handle the situation, Ducky had no idea how to break the news to the others. Nor was he certain what the reaction would be. However, his skills in psychological profiling did offer a glimpse of what might occur in the minutes following.

Faces of the team members flickered across his mind's eye. They would all be shocked. Of that he was sure. A mixture of anger and relief would follow with Abigail being the first to recover. The exuberant Goth and her unwavering faith would quickly find the blessings in the circumstances. Her grace would offer acceptance and forgiveness. She would stand squarely behind Jethro and Jennifer and put her whole heart into finding the evidence that would help to end this nightmare.

Timothy would be the next to line up behind his bosses. Enough of Abby's faith had rubbed off over the years that his questions would be quickly satisfied. His writer's mind would be intrigued by the intricacies of the mission. And his loyalty to Gibbs and the Director would never waver.

Between the two remaining members, Ziva would probably be the first to make a move. Mossad training would help bury her feelings. And there was no doubt where her loyalties lay. Although Ducky was certain this assignment would test them to the breaking point. Still, the girl had a deep sense of right and wrong – something that made her both vulnerable and almost unbreakable.

Then came Tony. Ducky watched the flames slowly consume the logs he'd placed after leaving the bedroom. The poor boy had been through so much. Caitlyn's death. The wretched undercover where he'd lost his heart. The tragedy of Agent Cassidy's sacrifice. The discovery of Jennifer in the diner. All those things left scars not easily healed. Add this to the anger consuming his soul…

One of the weakened logs crumbled and sent a shower of crackling sparks over the bed of coals. Quite the fitting tribute considering Ducky's current train of thought. Tonight's revelation could indeed cause the senior field agent to erupt then crumble. The deception could leave him suspicious. And that could be dangerous. For all of them.

Although Ducky doubted Tony would ever intentionally cause harm to Jethro or Jennifer, he bore careful watching. Given the right mixture of stress and drink, he very well could give the game away.

A key scraped against the tumblers of the door's lock and pulled him from his thoughts. A somewhat subdued group followed Tobias into the room with Mike Franks bringing up the rear. A plethora of emotions were etched deeply into the young faces. Ducky carefully studied each one and weighed the words he would use with great deliberation.

"Hey Ducky, where's the boss man?"

Tony's attempt to remain lighthearted despite the somberness of the last week was expected. The cold darkness beyond the jovial twinkle in his stormy blue eyes was not.

"Jethro's here." Ducky moved to the ramshackled overstuffed armchair near the hearth. "He will join us momentarily." He tried to smile pleasantly, but from the look of distrust and concern on their faces, he failed miserably. "Until then, why don't you all have a seat."

"What's going on, Ducky?"

Leave it to Officer David to cut to the heart of the matter. "I'll be glad to share, my dear. But first, sit. I think you'll find you may just need the support of a chair."


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for sticking with me as we got to this point. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

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**Chapter Seven**

For several long moments the only sound in the small room was the pop of embers and the creak of furniture as Tony and his comrades settled onto the various surfaces. From his perch on a stool in the corner, he had a clear view of both the door they entered and the closed one across the room. His gut twisted with the same kind of dread etched on his friends' faces. The ache in the center of his chest intensified as he absorbed the other's pain.

From the emptiness in Abby's eyes to the worried crease in the center of Probie's forehead to the tears Ziva was fighting so hard to keep contained, there was no doubt they were at the breaking point. More so than with Kate or Cassidy. More so than the heartbreak of falling for Jeanne even though Gibbs' rule and Jenny's advice urged him not to. And the man holding the knife to the frayed rope sat emotionless in a chair.

Tony drew a breath to quiet the turmoil in his soul. Perhaps emotionless was a poor description of the man who was always quick to offer a comforting word or a simple squeeze of support to an agent's slumped shoulders. Being on the receiving end of that support more times than he could count, Tony was well aware of how deeply Ducky felt. All that British reserve coupled with his penchant for storytelling was only a thin protective layer around his own fragile heart.

With guilt sandbagging the anger for a moment, Tony found his voice. "Okay Duck. Spill before you wind up with four NCIS employees as Autopsy's newest residents."

Ducky's smile was almost jovial. "Well we can't have that now can we, Anthony." He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door then slowly focused on each person in the room. Behind the usual intensity in his stare was something more. A slight pleading like a penitent child caught in the act by someone he never wanted to disappoint. "I'm not quite sure how to tell all of you this – "

"Oh no." Abby moved forward on the couch, her complexion ghostly against the black garb. "Is it Gibbs?" She started wringing her hands, her speech gathering speed with each syllable. "Has he left again? Has he…" Her eyes widened against the threatened cascade of tears. "Oh God. He hasn't tried to – "

"Abigail." Despite its softness, Ducky's voice commanded obedience. "I assure you. Jethro is quite safe. And no. He hasn't taken another hiatus."

"Then what is it, Duck?" Tim's agitation, though slightly more subdued than Abby's, leaked out through the slight quiver in his lower lip. "If it's not the Boss then – "

"Who?" Ziva shifted in her chair. The freaky Mossad Spidey sense glowed dangerously in her narrowed eyes. "Or what has required all this cloak and saber – "

Tension notwithstanding, Tony couldn't help the amusement Ziva's incorrect use of idioms stirred. "That's dagger, Zee-va. Cloak and dagger."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She crossed her arms, her enthusiasm a little more deflated than before but still in full rant mode. "The point is something or someone must be pretty damned important if – "

"She is, Ziva."

Gibb's gruff voice was the first clue Tony had that the team leader was within hearing distance. The phrase 'you could have heard a pin drop' didn't begin to describe the silence that followed as every set of eyes in the room focused on the silver-haired agent.

He held his hand out to someone still cloaked in the dimness of the other room. The harsh set of his jaw softened and his lips spread into a genuine yet gentle smile. His words were hardly more than a whisper when they came again – this time directed more at the petite figure emerging from the shadow of the doorway. "She absolutely is.

~.~.~.~.~

Even on the other side of the closed door with Jethro pacing, Jenny had felt the tension in the room filled with the people who were more than co-workers. She'd heard Ducky begin to explain. She'd heard the questions start. So had her husband. And, unfortunately for all involved, he'd been convinced their friend's approach wasn't working. Being the impatient man he was, he'd headed out of the bedroom and she'd had no choice but to follow.

Now here she was. Touched beyond words by the way Jethro announced she was worth everything but terrified to face the four people seated just across the threshold. Afraid to the point of immobility to witness their anger.

Then Jethro extended his hand, his smile gently assuring and his eyes filled with the strength of his love and the promise of security. Those two things combined to draw her hand to his. And when her fingers settled between the steadiness of his she knew she was ready. With him beside her, she could face anything the world or their friends threw at them.

The minute she stepped to his side, the air stilled. Silence pulled oxygen from the room and the lungs of the shocked agents leaving them pale and gaping. Jenny shuffled closer to her husband and wished desperately the universe had granted him the patience bestowed on Job.

"Well it would seem any announcement would be a little anticlimactic at this point." Relief flooded every pore when Ducky glanced at her then grinned. Just like always, he was on their six. Ready to give aid or defuse the situation with a quick wit. "However, since no one else has seen fit to make an official pronouncement. Rumors of Director Jennifer Shepard's demise have proven to be not only greatly exaggerated but completely false."

Luckily, the attempt at Mark Twain humor broke the ice. Abby was the first to jump to her feet. "I knew it!" She turned and pummeled the newly risen McGee. "Didn't I tell you there had to be some mistake, Timmy?" She skipped across the room and enveloped Jenny in a hug, Tim and Ziva not too far behind. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Within seconds, the tension dissipated. Except in the darkened corner where Agent DiNozzo glowered at them. Guilt boiled in the back of Jenny's throat. Ducky was right. This was more than unexpected. Particularly for the senior field agent she had taken into confidence. Anger. Hurt. Distrust. All of that and more swirled in those hooded eyes. It was almost as if he wished…

"So Jenny." Ziva's rich accent tugged her attention away from the Gibbs' protégé on the barstool. "You are going to tell us what the hell happened, yes?"

Jenny nodded. "Between Jethro, Ducky and I, I believe we can fill you in." She smiled feeling a little like an elementary school teacher in front of an eager group of students. "Now if you guys would just sit down for a moment, we'll see if we can – "

"Come up with a way to come out of this smelling like a rose, Jenny?"

The sound of rolling thunder couldn't be more ominous than Tony's words. The predatory way he sauntered across the room only emphasized the anger bordering on hatred boiling in the now black eyes. Jenny ignored the urge to shrink back against Jethro and stood her ground in the path of the approaching storm. "Tony. I don't think – "

"Oh come on, Director Shepard. Are you denying you haven't used the team to carry out your own personal agenda?"

Tony knew his words were harsher than she deserved. But at the moment, he didn't care. He just wanted her – and maybe Gibbs – to hurt like he did.

"Come on now, Tony. The Director didn't have us do anything we wouldn't -"

Although McGee's admonishment was true, Tony didn't want to hear it. He spun to face his friend and teammate. "Ya got a little something on your nose there McYes man."

He refused to let the crestfallen look deter him from his mission. He had to make them see – all of them – just how wrong this was. "Let's face it people." He started to pace the small patch of carpet between the end of the sofa and the hearth. "We've been her patsies from day one. She goes off on some crusade then leaves us to clean up the mess made by the horses."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tony heard the menacing growl rumble in the Boss man's throat. But like always, he ignored it. He ignored the way Jenny touched Gibbs' arm and her soft plea.

"That's enough, DiNozzo."

"Enough?" The word tangled with the sarcastic laugh on his tongue. "Enough? I'm just getting started. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired of making all the sacrifices while her highness – "

Tony swallowed the words when his back made contact with the rough wood planks of the cabin's wall. Gibbs' face teeter-tottered in front of him. He tried to swallow but the older man's glare seemed to hold all bodily functions, including breathing, hostage. It took a moment for him to realize that the reason he couldn't find his footing was because his toes weren't really touching the ground. The former Marine had him pinned against the wall and was gripping the lapels of his jacket so tightly the material started to rip.

"How dare you." The words hissed through gritted teeth. Tony could feel Gibbs' anger in the tiny tremors rippling against the pressure points on his chest. Blue eyes flashed with the kind of fury he'd only seen on a few occasions during his tenure with NCIS. In a breath, he knew what a suspect in the interrogation room felt like when the ex-gunny mauled them with only his voice. "You have no idea what kind of sacrifices my wife has made."

Somewhere out in the periphery, Ducky, Fornell and Franks moved. The cavalry was coming if he could just hold on. Unless they were coming to Gibbs' aid and not his. Which wouldn't be surprising since Tony was berating not only the former NCIS director but his boss' wi-

"And you have no idea what kind of sacrifices both she and I will make in the future. That's what people who love each other do, DiNozzo. Maybe if you'd really had that with La Grenouille's daughter instead of just thinking – "

"Jethro."

Tony had never been so grateful to hear Jenny's soft but firm voice. She touched Gibbs' arm and Tony's toes made contact with the floor for the first time in minutes.

"Babe, let him go."

The hard lines of Gibbs' brow smoothed. His knuckles stopped digging into Tony's chest.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let go."

For once, when Tony was finally free, he kept his mouth shut. He straightened his clothing but kept a guarded eye on the couple until they disappeared into the other room and Ducky closed the door.

~.~.~.~.~

Ducky sighed and rested his hand on the solidness of the door. Although this was inevitable, he wished the situation hadn't escalated like it had. He doubted if any lasting damage was done. Still…

Drawing a slow breath, he turned back to the group. While the team was obviously stunned, they actually weren't as pale as he feared they might be. Neither were they splintered. Already Tony was making his way back into the fold, his eyes downcast and his face contrite.

Once the tension completely dissipated, Ducky focused on each individual. He could see the questions racing through their minds. All of them needed to be asked and all answered. He simply needed to wait for the first one to fall from someone's lip. With Abby in the crowd, the wait was indeed a short one.

"Did Gibbs just call the Director his wife?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you all for reading and for the wonderful reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

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**Chapter Eight**

Ducky sighed. Anthony certainly spoiled the way Jenny and Jethro wanted to announce their nuptials. Then again, Jethro and his perennial impatience ruined Ducky's plan to reveal the director's return from the dead. The evening had definitely turned into quite the dog's dinner. But despite all those things, this was still the team he'd adopted as his family. They deserved an explanation. Starting with the answer to Abigail's question.

"Yes, my dear. Jethro and Jennifer are indeed husband and wife."

"Wow." McGee looked like the proverbial deer caught in headlights. "How?" A sheepish blush rushed to his cheeks. "I mean I know how you get married," he mumbled. "But why?" He cleared is throat then tried to backpedal away from his blundering forays into this interrogation. "Well why is probably pretty obvious. So I guess – "

"What McGee is trying to express." Ziva stepped up beside the stuttering junior field agent and took the no nonsense track. "Is when. When did all this happen? And how did we not know?"

"Seems there's a lot we don't know," Tony groused. "Which is what I've been trying to tell you guys since we got here." Anger-darkened eyes flashed with renewed energy. "They keep us in the dark until – "

"That's enough, DiNozzo." Mike's gravely voice chilled the room beyond anything the fireplace could combat. "Did it ever occur to ya that Probie and his bride were tryin' to protect all of you? This mess they're in could cost you your jobs at best." He squinted, his glare as hard as the timbre of his words. "And your lives at worst." Leaning back against the wall by Tobias like a cowboy seasoned by the range and running on the last reserves of tolerance, glowered at the young NCIS field agent. "Course after this little display, I ain't sure your ass is worth savin'."

The flash of fury in Tony's eyes caused the hair on the nap of Ducky's neck to prickle. Anthony did indeed have the potential to be very dangerous. Perhaps a phone call to Leon was in order – not for the acting director's benefit, but because it would be best for Jethro, Jennifer and the team. However, Vance could wait. The current situation could not.

Moving away from the bedroom door, Ducky prayed he could be the voice of reason. "Come now, gentlemen. Let's not forget why we are here."

Tobias uncrossed his arms and picked his way across the room to the team. His eyes warily locked on Tony. "While I don't think that's possible, Duck, maybe I should remind them." He nodded at Tony. "Especially DiNutso and his smart mouth. Seems he's forgotten the golden rule of investigation." He stopped in front of the younger agent and uncrossed his arms. "Don't draw conclusions until all the evidence is in."

Tony's mouth opened but Mike cut off any words before they tumbled out. "Seems the only one here who's the patsy is Jenny. That bastard Kort took her in. The damn man used his CIA status to coerce her trust then used her hatred of The Frog as cover while he killed the man and took over his organization." He leveled his squinty-eyed gaze at the whole team. "And now it looks like she and Jethro both are playin' patsy again. Thinkin' they could trust you not to judge." He swaggered over to stand next to Tobias, forming a united and unbreakable front. "Thinkin' you guys were family first and a damn fine team second." His heavy sigh even bent Ducky's shoulders. "Guess they were wrong on both counts."

At his words, four pairs of eyes lowered. Abby wrung her hands while the shadow of tears lingered near Timothy's lashes. Even Ziva look thoroughly chastised. Tony, however…Well perhaps his jaw wasn't clenched as tightly. Finally, a rather penitent Mossad officer broke the fog-like silence.

"So Kort is behind all this?"

Ducky glanced at his cohorts. They'd all agreed Ziva would remain loyal no matter who might ultimately be responsible for the situations arranged to bring about Jenny's removal from the director's chair and Leon's current position in it. Still, now was not the time to test that loyalty. "Mr. Kort is merely the bulldog in this game, my dear. Someone else is holding his chain."

"Someone like who, Duck?" Tony's frown now only showed an intent interest. Perhaps he would come around after all.

"Someone whose desire to protect stretches beyond the borders of his or her own country." Tobias possessed a certain admirable panache when it came to answering a question without divulging information. "Someone who feels Jenny doesn't possess the same credentials as Vance. Someone who will fight his war for him." He drew a deep breath and looked at each team member in turn. "But right now, that isn't important. What is important is that Jethro trusts each of you enough to read you in. But we need to make sure you understand the dangers." He jerked his head toward the man standing beside him. "Like Mike said, at best you guys would be risking your jobs." He paused, waiting for his words to hit home. "Question is, are you willing to take the risk. And, more importantly, is Jethro's trust misplaced."

~.~.~.~.~

Jethro's anger rolled off him in waves. It trembled beneath Jenny's fingers when she touched his shoulder. It propelled him away from her touch and to the tiny window set in the far wall. It gleamed in his hard blue eyes as he gazed out into the darkness until he rubbed his hand across his face and defeat shoved it aside. "I never should have brought them into this, Jen." We shoulda just stuck with the original plan. Gone off on our own and let them get on with their lives."

Jenny's heart ached to see him beat himself up like this. Especially when Tony's reaction was entirely her fault. She should have never…She pushed the thought away. She might not be able to fix the past, but she could help shore up the future.

She eased up behind him and slid her hands along the waistband of his jeans until they met at the buckle of his belt. She nestled against his back and rested her chin against his shoulder. "You and I both know they wouldn't have moved on. Not this time." She rubbed one hand against the hard plane of his stomach in soothing strokes. "That's why we decide to bring them up to speed. Include them however we can."

The tension eased a little more from his taunt muscles. "Maybe. But now that we have, DiNozzo could – "

"Tony isn't going to do anything to hurt us, babe." Jenny nuzzled her nose against his ear, breathing in her husband's essence. "He's angry and hurt and maybe just a little jealous about being excluded. But he'll get over it, sweetheart." She pressed her lips to Jethro's jaw, the familiar taste strengthening her resolve. "They all will."

A deep sigh pushed the rest of the tension from her husband's body and allowed a tiny smirk to tug at one side of his mouth. He turned and wrapped her in his arms. "Think so, huh?"

The teasing glint returned to his gray-blue eyes and sent her pulse into overdrive. "Know so," she purred. His gentle smile was irresistible so she feathered her lips against it. "They learned everything from you, Jethro. And since I'm personally familiar with your capacity to forgive and forget." She snuggled more deeply into his embrace.

"Forgiving was never an issue with you, Jen." Her lips tingled when his finger traced them to the corner and back. "It was an inevitability."

She blinked against the gathering tears and lowered her eyes to momentarily avoid his gaze. She didn't deserve his forgiveness. Or his love. But she thanked God every day for both of them. Her skin twitched from the nearness of his hand just before he tilted her chin enough for her to be caught in the strength of his gaze. His words lit his eyes before they past his lips. "I love you, Jenny Sheppard."

"Not as much as I love you, Jethro Gibbs." She leaned closer, intent on proving her point. Her lips vibrated with the electricity arching from his. They almost made contact before the doorknob rattled and the door creaked on its hinges.

"Sorry to interrupt, Boss." Tony couldn't quite hide the knowing smirk at catching them in an intimate embrace. At least he had the decency to disguise it behind a sheepish blush. "But we McGeek's itching to reclaim his title of Elf Lord. So we were wondering if you could brief us on this new mission."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The spontaneous applause nearly knocked Jenny off her feet as she followed Jethro from the bedroom. This time, instead of shock and anger, delight and relief filled the faces of the team. Before she could blink, she was enveloped by exuberant hugs. Heartfelt 'I'm glad you're backs' echoed in her ears. Even Tony, whose eyes spoke the apology Gibbs' rule wouldn't allow to pass his lips, seemed genuinely happy about her return.

Once they dispersed enough to allow Jethro to lead her to the couch, she caught Ducky's assuring wink. "What happened?" she whispered as she sat down between the two men she adored.

Ducky smiled and patted her shoulder with more certainty than he had in weeks. "They just needed a bit of reminding, my dear."

Jenny frowned, confident the stress had done her dearest friend in. "Reminding of what?"

His smile wobbled in that happy enough to cry way. "The definition of family, Jennifer. The definition of family."

Between the hormones and the relief, she couldn't form a reply without risking a wave of tears she might never be able to stop. So, she nodded and offered her own trembling smile. Thankfully, as with Jethro, the ME didn't need words to get the message. He leaned closer, kissed her cheek and whispered some of the most amazing words in any language. "Welcome home, Jenny."

"Hey." Jethro's fingers tightened around hers. She hesitated to turn and face him. To allow him to see the tears he would so easily misinterpret. But this was Gibbs – the most stubborn, persistent, amazing man ever placed on this planet. Slowly, she rotated enough to see his eyes. The love and concern mingled in a delicious blue cocktail she would spend a lifetime enjoying. "You okay?"

At first, all she could do was nod. Then, as his strength infused her through his gaze and touch, she found her voice. "I'm fine, Jethro. Just a little overwhelmed and…"

She didn't need to finish. The spark of understanding stirred to life in his barely there smile and the gentle pressure from his fingertips. "Trust me, Jen." It was good to hear the lilt of laughter in his tone again. "It's only gonna get worse."

Unable to swat him without calling attention and questions neither of them were ready to answer, Jenny nudged his knee with hers. The bump was hard enough to make his eyebrows twitch into a slight frown and bring a bubble of laughter to her throat. He always did know exactly what to say to lighten her mood and settle himself a little more firmly into her heart – as if he didn't already possess it completely.

"Jethro." The calm amusement in Ducky's voice reminded her they were in a room full of observant people. She just hoped his were the only keen eyes that caught her discrete movements. "Although Mike, Tobias and I have attempted to brief your fellow agents, I'm sure you and Jennifer would do a much better job of clearing up any confusion."

Knowing Jethro's version of a briefing involved nothing more than barking orders and designating responsibilities, Jenny diplomatically launched into an explanation "Although this probably goes back father than the latest La Grenouille debacle, it seems to have been the flashpoint for the current situation."

"And what situation is that, Director?"

_All of them. From Ari onward_. But Ziva didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway. Not until she could handle the same kind of truths Jenny was learning to deal with about Jasper Sheppard. The kind of truth she vowed her own children would never be forced to face.

"Someone wants Jenny out of the director's chair." Tension edged Jethro's voice as he tried not to place blame.

"Who?" Tony's brow was a crinkled mass of concentration with a hint of hesitancy in his eyes. "You don't think –"

"No, DiNozzo. We don't think Jeanne Benoit is anything more than a fatality of her father's profession." Despite its gruffness, Jethro's words were delivered with a gentleness he rarely displayed to anyone but her…and maybe Ducky. "Trent Kort…"

His jaw clenched and his Adam's apple bobbed like a float on an unsettled sea. The control he never lost in front of his team was slowly slipping away as his eyes turned glassy beneath a surge of moisture. The need to comfort overwhelmed Jenny's need to remain professional. She moved her free hand to his chest, smoothing her palm against the cotton fabric of his shirt and soothing the nearly healed heart beneath. She sighed softly and continued his thought for him. "Trent Kort is the one responsible."

"Or at least he's the only bastard we're allowed to touch," Mike groaned.

"He's the only one who poses any real threat, Franks." Tobias raised his eyebrows in silent warning. "Once he's neutralized, Jenny will be out of the line of fire."

"Outta the line of fire my ass. She won't be safe until that Is – "

"Mike." Jethro's voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Getting Kort gives us time to get whoever's pullin' his strings."

Thankfully, unlike the one at the diner just before the gunmen stormed in, the stare down was a short one. Of course, just like that day, her husband only flinched when she added her own arched brow glare. As the tension eased, she delved back into the briefing.

Because of Kort's threats after La Grenouille, I had to – "

"We." The Vienna Boy's Choir could take lessons for being in unison from the four men she trusted with her life.

Touched more than she could ever express, Jenny smiled her thanks. "We devised a plan that would keep not only me, but all of you safe. I never meant to…" Once again, tears stalled her words. Swallowing, she managed to squeak out the rest of the confession. "To hurt you. Or involve you."

"But we are involved, Director." Abby's earnestness seeped not only from her words but her thickly mascaraed eyes. "We have been in from the start. It's just now, we'll know what our jobs are."

"That's right." McGee added. "What do we need to…I mean how should we – "

"What McGeek is trying to say is, how do we get this CIA stooge," Tony growled.

"And how much pain do we get to inflict before we officially have him in custody." Ziva's eyes flashed with devilish mischief laced with deep sincerity. "Just give the word, Jenny and no one will find the body."

Jenny laughed through her tears. "That won't be necessary, Ziva."

"Because the bastard's mine."

Jethro's possessiveness shimmered in the hardness of his eyes. Jenny had no doubt he would kill Kort even if their paths never crossed. And, while the wife swelled with pride, the agent knew it would be professional suicide. She couldn't allow him to do that. She couldn't ask him to carry more guilt than he already did. She couldn't let him make the same mistake he had with the drug lord who'd killed Shannon. She'd simply have to –

"So what do you want us to do, Boss?"

"Whatever Vance assigns you, DiNozzo." Jethro relaxed enough for a tiny half-smile to soften his features. "Just be on the lookout for Kort or anything else that might be important to this situation."

"And what are you going to do, Boss?"

"That's simple McGee." Jethro's half smile bloomed into a rare grin. His gaze rested its warmth on Jenny a split second before he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and urged her closer. "I'll be the protection detail for my wife."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I would like to apologize for the delay in posting. Work and workshops got in the way of writing a posting. Hopefully everything is under control now and the posts should come more regularly. I hope you continue to enjoy my musings.**

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**Chapter Ten**

"Ya better get goin' Probie." Lack of sleep made Mike's gravely voice even coarser. "Can't let your team beat cha into the office this mornin'." A rare grin disturbed the unlit cigarette hanging between his lips. "Might make ol' Leon suspicious."

Jethro took another sip of coffee and listened for any sounds of life from the floor above. "When isn't he suspicious, Mike?"

Another long sip of the hot, dark liquid didn't dislodge the queasy feeling in his gut. Every encounter with the new director seemed like a fishing expedition. Whether Jethro was the fish or the angler had yet to be established. He glanced toward the stairs, imagining the red headed beauty ensconced between the sheets of his bed. One thing was certain – he wouldn't let Jenny be the bait. Even if she was too damn stubborn for her own good. Like last night.

"_What do you think you're doing, Jen?"_

_Her impish grin made her eyes sparkle like flawless emeralds from the dark interior of the ancient Ford truck. "Going home."_

_A groan vibrated against his ribs. "Jen."_

"_Jethro."_

_Somewhere between the brashness that was expected in the director of a federal agency and the vulnerability only he and Ducky were privy to was the irresistible charm he could never quite refuse. "I want to go home, babe. Sleep in the same bed as my husband. Wake up in your arms and feel safe for the first time since I went to California." The slight quiver in her chin infiltrated her voice. "Please, Jethro. Take me home."_

He never stood a chance. Not with the tears shimmering on her lashes and the silent plea in her wide-eyed gaze. So he sandwiched her between himself and Ducky. With Mike and Tobias on his six, they made their way back into the city, pulling into his drive in the wee hours of the morning. Exhausted but content, he climbed into his bed and pulled her close against his chest. It was almost sunrise before her soft breathing combined with the sound of Mike and Tobias keeping watch lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

Between the minimal sleep and the warmth of his wife curled against him, reluctant didn't begin to describe his reaction to leaving his bed. But between the smell of caffeine and the blaring alarm clock, he had no choice. Determination to get the day over with pulled him from his bed – leaving her peacefully sleeping on his pillow. Now, he just needed to actually abandon his house for the early morning traffic and the confines of the Navy Yard.

"Don't worry, Jethro." Tobias shuffled into the kitchen looking like a sleep-deprived zombie. He filled a mug to the brim with the brown sludge Mike passed off as coffee, his eyes clearing before the liquid actually touched his tongue. "We won't let anything happen to her."

Pinning both men with a practiced warning glare, Jethro polished off his cup of rocket fuel and deposited the chipped crockery in the sink. "Better not."

It was all the warning the two men would need. With a brusque nod, he ducked out the back door. No matter what Vance threw at him. No matter how far-flung the destination, by tonight, Jenny would be back in his arms to stay. And this time, he would never let her go.

~.~.~.~.~

In tandem, the team exited the elevator. Like professional gamblers, their faces gave nothing away – much to Jethro's delight. They were ready. Training had become second nature. Together or apart, the team would complete the mission. _Dear God, let them complete the mission. Successfully and safely._

Jethro barely made it to his desk before the phone rang. No need to look at the display. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the receiver. "Gibbs."

Cynthia's voice was more confirmation of the inevitable. "Agent Gibbs, Director Vance would like to see you and your team in his office."

Director Vance. Jethro tasted the metallic burn of bile in his throat at the title. "Be right up," he growled. The handset was barely settled in its cradle before he strode toward the stairs and motioned for the team to follow.

"Remember." His steps punctuated the words. "Give – "

"Nothing away." Mossad calm coated Ziva's voice.

"Stay alert." For once, there was no timbre of uncertainty behind McGee's words.

"And bring Kort in alive." Even Tony's lip service seemed sincere – though Jethro doubted the senior field agent would actually remember the order should he come face to face with the rogue CIA agent. Especially since the younger man had as much right to hate the onion-headed stooge as Jethro did. "Right, Boss?"

Jethro offered only a slight confirming nod. "Because the bastard's mine." Though which bastard, he wasn't sure. With a renewed resolve to end this, Jethro led his team into Vance's office.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you all for reading. I hope you are still enjoying this little tale.**

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**Chapter Eleven**

_Don't show emotion. Don't react. Don't rise to his baiting. Give nothing away. _Jethro wasn't sure if he was attempting telepathy or if he were merely repeating the mantra he'd learned a lifetime ago. Whatever it was, the words circumventing his mind as he stood ramrod straight beside his team calmed him. Allowed him to remain stoic under the heated glare of NCIS' newest director. Kept him from wiping that damn half smirk off Vance's face.

"Bad few days."

_Thanks for stating the obvious, Leon_. Jethro clenched his jaw just enough to keep the sentiment from tumbling past his teeth. This stare down between his team and Vance was almost amusing. Or it would be it he were privy to his superior's thoughts. Like he was with Jenny.

Jenny. Just her name was enough to nearly sever his restraint. Maybe that's why he could remain calm in the face of the impending storm. Because he knew what his mission would be when all was said and done. No matter how Leon phrased it in front of the others. Whether it was a diplomatic request to remain once the others were dismissed or a craftily disguised mission delivered under their noses, he knew the orders. Just like his team knew.

"Officer David."

Even Mossad training didn't stop the slight flinch or the flicker of desperation. Still, when she caught his gaze. When he silently vowed it would be okay – whatever 'it' was – she calmed. Stared straight ahead and took the decision like the well-trained agent he taught her to be.

"The liaison position with NCIS is being terminated. You're going home."

_She's going back to Israel. Not home._ Once more Jethro tightened his control over his tongue to keep his thoughts trapped. With a slight nod, he offered her assurance. Tried to convey this was just one more role she needed to play. An undercover assignment that wouldn't last forever.

As much as he hated to admit it, it made sense to send her back to the man behind this whole mess. Out of all of them, she was the most likely to gain the most intel on the primary target. Just like Ducky pointed out when they discussed the direction Leon needed to be nudged.

"McGee." Vance shifted his gaze. The man had one hell of a poker face. "I'm moving you across to the cyber crimes unit. You're working with Officer Hollsworh starting tomorrow."

Two for two. Although Jethro still didn't trust the man who had slipped so easily into Jenny's chair, so far he'd taken Ducky's suggestions to heart. And while McGee would definitely do the agency proud with his computer skills, he was now perfectly positioned to breech firewalls and gain valuable access to both Trent Kort and Eli David via the vast world of cyberspace. No question. McGee was the man for the job.

"DiNozzo."

Even Jethro flinched slightly with the shift in Leon's tone. Harsher. More pointed with his glare. Despite the nearly visible shift in mood, Tony stood his ground.

"Sir."

"You've been reassigned."

Jethro's eyebrow inched upward. Unexpected didn't adequately describe the sensation. But blindsided did. Tony was the one pawn sure to remain on Jethro's side of the board. Then again…

Once glance at the junior agent and Jethro sensed the same dangerous determination. The same angry mixture from last night. Maybe Ducky was right to make that late night call. Maybe –

"Agent afloat. USS Ronald Reagan. Pack your bags. You fly out tomorrow."

No reaction. From anyone. Just like he'd instructed. Pride puffed out Jethro's chest in spite of the chilly glare currently aimed at him from the cocky man behind the desk.

"Agent Gibbs."

Here it was. The assignment he already knew about. Trying not to smirk, Jethro returned the pointed look with deadly accuracy. Until Vance pushed the three personnel files toward him.

"Meet your new team."

The self-control needed to keep his jaw from dropping also kept him rooted to the spot. If he moved, the SecNav would be looking for yet another director.

He wasn't supposed to be saddled with three probies. Three people who would need his full attention if they were to become the cohesive unit… He swallowed the sudden wave of regret. The kind that comes when someone changes the rule in the middle of the game you've agreed to play.

"Like I said." The steadiness in Vance's voice really grated on the nerves. "Been a bad few days. So go home. Get a good night's sleep so we can all start fresh in the morning."

They could all start fresh in the morning. Before the new day started, Jethro vowed he and Jen would be long gone. There was no way he was going to let some smart-ass –

"Not what you were expecting. Was it, Gibbs?"

Jethro blinked, realizing for the first time he was the only member of his team still standing in the office. Focusing on the man grinning at him from across the desk, a second thought hit him. One that tightened his gut in a most unpleasant way. He was being played.

"A new team, Leon?" He lifted the cover of the top folder. Might as well play along now that he knew the plan had changed. No sense in giving away his decision just yet. "Have to admit I didn't see that one coming." The brown cardstock flap fluttered back over the white pages. "When do they start?"

"Six weeks." Vance settled into his chair and picked a fresh toothpick from the crystal dish to the left of the desk blotter. For a brief second, the only sound was the crinkle of plastic as he peeled the wrapper from the splinter of wood. "After you get back from London with your wife."

This time, Jethro couldn't keep his jaw hinged. Of course he snapped it shut when Leon chuckled, shifting the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. "Didn't think you could keep a marriage certificate file with the D.C. Court of General Sessions a secret now did you?"

Relief tilted toward uncertainty and back again before he could draw a breath. While he still didn't trust the former San Diego team leader, he was glad the man knew. Knew just what was at stake. "Six weeks, huh. Think that's enough time?"

Vance nodded. "To neutralize Kort."

"And Eli David?"

There was a slight twitch of the toothpick. The man was obviously weighing his words carefully. Willing to reveal only enough to satisfy curiosity and nothing more. "Won't be a problem once Kort is dealt with."

After years in the Corps, instinct told Jethro how far to push. How much someone could take before they broke or fought back or shut down. Leon wasn't there yet. "You sure about that?"

A slight jerk of the thin strip of wood between Vance's lips answered before he release the words. "He's not interest in seeing Jenny dead, Jethro. Just out of this chair." Despite the dangerous glint in his dark eyes, Jethro didn't doubt the observation. "Kort's the only one to worry about here."

Satisfied for the moment, Jethro nodded. Leon had been pushed as far as he was going to be pushed. Besides, McGee and Ziva could do a little digging if need be.

"Now go home and pack." Leon opened his desk drawer and withdrew a thick manila envelope. "Take this with you. It's Jenny's new passport. Assuming she's changed her last name."

The smile couldn't be stopped any more than the heat pushing against Jethro's cheeks. "Already done. As far as the government and anyone else is concerned, she's Jennifer S. Gibbs."

A knowing chuckle wiggled the toothpick. "Thought so." Leon handed over the packet. "There are also new insurance cards, the paperwork showing the change of status and medical guardianship." He leaned back in his chair. "Now you better get going. Fornell, Jenny, Dr. Mallard and Abby will meet you at Andrews in two hours."

"Ducky and Abby?" One thing was for sure; the new director would definitely keep him guessing. "Why Ducky and Abby?"

"Abby will be doing a series of lectures at various universities across the UK. And Dr. Mallard…" The amused twinkle in Vance's eyes tightened the knot in Jethro's stomach. "Well you never know when his services might be needed."

He knew. Somehow, the man knew. Once again relief battled with uncertainty. How did he…Jethro shoved the question aside. His gut told him he didn't want to know.

With a curt nod, he turned and took a step toward the door. But one nagging question caught him before he could complete his exit. "What if Kort isn't neutralized before we get back?"

Determination furrowed Leon's brow. "By then I'll have a security plan in place. Nobody will get to her, Jethro. Even if I have to call in Mike Franks for back-up."

Again, Jethro's lip curled into an involuntary grin. If Leon was willing to call Mike, there was nothing to worry about. Didn't make him trust the man, but…

He turned and continued his retreat from the office. His fingers curled around the doorknob before Vance's voice stopped him.

"I know you don't trust me, Jethro."

Glancing over his shoulder at the man, he gave a slight shrug. "Some things have to be earned, Leon."

The director nodded. "Fair enough." He stood, his face a mixture of confidence and sincerity. "But understand me on this, Gibbs. When it comes to your family, I've got your back."

"Why?" The question tumbled from his tongue before he could recall it.

Certainty stared back at him from nearly black eyes. "Because I know you're on my six when it comes to mine."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

"Probie ain't gonna be happy about this."

If Jenny heard that phrase once since Jethro called, she'd heard it a hundred times. Drawing a deep breath, she concentrated on placing the stack of neatly folded shirts in the suitcase. "I'm sure Jethro won't mind me packing for him, Mike. I have done it before you know."

"That's not what I'm talkin' about, Jenny." His narrowed eyes didn't hide the glint of irritation in his steely eyes. "He ain't gonna like bein' outta the action for six weeks. Trustin' Leon to get Kort before Kort gets you."

"Not trusting him, Mike." Jethro breezed into the room a full ten minutes before she expected him to. Calm, confident and so damn sexy her heart fluttered, he didn't break stride as he dropped a thick brown envelope on the dresser then snagged his wedding band from the terra cotta dish. "Just expecting him to do his job while I do mine."

The gold band settled against his knuckle a heartbeat before he snaked his arms around her waist and tugged her against him. Blue eyes sparked with desire. His half-smile helped propel the electricity generated by his nearness until she believed spontaneous combustion was possible. "And unless you wannna witness the way I say 'hello' to my wife." The words might have been aimed at the man by the door, but Jethro's gaze and the promise it carried was hers alone. "I suggest you go help Tobias with the security system.

Mumbled words like "love" and "makin' his brain mush" dissolved into rhythmic pounding once Jethro placed his lips against hers. Letting the shirt fall from her hands, she turned in his arms. The soft cotton of his blue dress shirt a sharp contrast to the hard muscles tightening and relaxing beneath her fingertips only made her skin vibrate even more. A deep throb built from the gentleness of his lips and tongue and the solid pressure of his lean frame against hers. She wanted nothing more than to surrender. To allow him to sweep her off her feet and take her on the incredibly euphoric journey only he could guide her on. But with Tobias and Franks downstairs and the shadow of Trent Kort looming over them until they were out of the country, she couldn't allow him to get too carried away. Couldn't afford to lose control or her precarious grip on the edges of reality.

Once the need for air urged Jethro to release the kiss, she made her move. Rested her cheek against his jaw and ignored the gentle nudges as he sought to renew his assault. "If you want more than two changes of clothes while we're away, sweetheart." She smiled when her breath against his ear stood the hair along the nape of his neck stand on end. "Then I suggest you let me finish packing."

"Clothing is highly overrated." His hands started a creeping tour of her waistband. Tickling and teasing the skin just beneath the hem of her blouse until he reached the small of her lower spine. Given the needed space, he delved beneath the pale peach silk and blazed a heated trail to the edges of her bra. "Especially when spending time behind locked hotel room doors."

Capitulation was close. If Jenny didn't turn the tables soon, she would careen beyond the point of ne return. "But you and I both know we won't spend all our time in the bedroom. Not with Abby and Ducky along."

The first hook snapped free of its restraint. Jenny shivered slightly when the cold metal touched her flesh, his husky voice a symphony in her ears. "All the more reason to indulge when we can."

His breath was warm against her neck. His body hard and tense against hers. Once he managed the other two hooks and traced the gaping lace to the swell of her… Well there would just be no turning back. She needed to distract him. Keep him off-balance enough to complete her task. And there was only one way to accomplish that. "Tell me what Leon had to say."

The heavy sigh mixed with a groan and the way his fingers stiffened then stilled sent a swirl of regret through her. "He knows, Jen." She rested her forehead against Jethro's shoulder and let the words sink in. "Somehow, he knows."

Unexpected but not a disaster. Or at least that's what she wanted to hear in her husband's voice. Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she straightened. "How much?"

Although he released her from his embrace, his gaze held firm. Calmness and assurance swirled in his blue eyes and traveled on the warm currents between the, infusing her with faith.

"Knows we're married." He jerked his head toward the package on the dresser. "Name's already been changed on everything from insurance cards to your passport." He made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a snort in the back of his throat. "Wouldn't be surprised if there's a copy of our marriage license in there."

Jenny nodded, the swirl of butterflies pounding a little less against her ribs. "Makes sense." Marriage records were open to the public. Plus, they hadn't exactly tried to hide their changing relationship. Hell, she half expected the team to show up at the ceremony. Probably would have if they hadn't been so preoccupied with work and other things. "Okay. What else?"

A sheepish grin followed the blush creeping along his cheeks. "He didn't come right out and say it, but I think he suspects we're expecting." Jethro's shoulders jumped in a slight shrug. "Explains why he's sending Duck along for the ride."

Leon was perceptive. Maybe a little too perceptive. Feeling a little more vulnerable despite the confident air surrounding her husband, Jenny didn't try to keep the uncertainty at bay. "But we were so careful to keep that under wraps." She had to move, even if it was just a few steps away from the bed then back again. "And I know Ducky would never… So that could mean…"

Calloused hands with a grip like soft iron clapped around her arms. Blue eyes bathed her in security and comfort. "It's okay, Jen. Everything is gonna be okay. Leon isn't going to let anything hurt us."

"How do you know?"

Part of her wished she could recall the words before they reached his ears. But if she had, she wouldn't have seen the amazing light show in his eyes and the play of emotions across his features. "Because he promised. Just like I promised all those years ago back in Serbia."

That was enough. The final butterfly landed with a quiet whoosh in her stomach. Jethro's fingers relaxed and Jenny lifted her hand to his cheek. "Okay." She smiled, hoping it would erase the concern lines from his forehead. "What about the team? Think he knows they've been briefed?"

The flash of sadness in the cadet blue eyes nearly nudged her toward panic again before surety climbed from the darkened depths. "Don't think so." He picked up one of his folded shirts and placed it neatly into the half-filled bag. It was a sure sign he didn't want to be grilled about the coming answer. "Reassigned them. Took Ducky's recommendations on all of them." He adjusted the other articles of clothing she'd packed before he arrived. "Even on DiNozzo."

Knowing words weren't what he needed at the moment. Those platitudes would only cause him to shut down and make for a miserable transatlantic flight. Yet the need to comfort was too strong to ignore. Covering his hand, she squeezed. Kept her voice soft and unquestioning once the words lined up acceptably on her tongue. "Why don't you go take a shower and let me finish up here. We've got a long journey ahead. Might as well dress comfortably for it."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The knot in Jethro's stomach loosened as the Gulfstream 650 gained altitude. By the time the jet leveled off, it was completely untied. In a matter of hours, they'd be in London. A city he knew inside and out. A city he could trust. Jen was safe. Everything was going to be okay. He could feel it in his gut. Now if he could just find a way to dissolve the guilt fisted around his soul.

Warmth invaded him a split second before her whisper stirred the hair near his ear. "Penny for your thoughts."

Turning, he masked his melancholy with a lopsided grin. He unfastened his seatbelt then carefully released hers. Once free of the restraints, he pressed the button on the side of the armrest and both seats reclined. Wrapping his arms around his bride, he tugged her closer. "Just thinkin' about us and the next six weeks. Might be nice to be out from under the microscope for a while."

Jen arched one perfectly contoured eyebrow, her emerald eyes dancing with mischief only slightly more intense then the you-can't-fool-me gleam. "I agree, Jethro. It will be nice." She curled against his side and rested her cheek against his upper chest, her right hand taking up residence just to the left of his sternum. Her hair tickled the side of his neck. "And what would make it even better is if you stop feeling guilty." Her touch was feather soft through the chambray material. Still, there was enough contact to spark electrical currents across his synapses. "But if you can't do that, I hope you know I'm here, ready and willing to listen."

God what would he do without her? He'd asked that question a million times over the past several months. Every day he prayed he wouldn't find out. Every night he hit his knees, thankful for one more day. One more hour with her.

Pressing his nose to the silken auburn curls, he breathed in her essence. The hint of citrus and lavender. The trace of vanilla and mountain streams. While there was no place so far as to keep her away from him, he knew all too well guilt could open a chasm so great she would be too far. Not that he would let that happen. Not this time.

He tightened his embrace and brushed his lips against the top of her head. He might not be able to talk about it now, but he would. And when he was ready, she'd be the first he would turn to. The first he'd lean on.

He rested his chin on the soft bed of fiery tresses. Things were still too raw. The wounds too fresh. But she wasn't asking to heal him today. Or tomorrow. Or next week. She just wanted to know he knew she was willing. And for this moment, that's all he could offer. Assurance that he wouldn't shut her out. That, when he was ready, she could apply the bandage.

"I know, babe." He closed his eyes and focused on the synchrony formed by years of partnership and love. The kind of matched rhythm missing since Shannon – if it even existed then. "I know."

~.~.~.~.~

Needing to stretch his legs and get away from the nervous energy emanating from his favorite forensic scientist, Ducky strolled toward the galley intent on offering Tobias his culinary expertise. Why the FBI agent fancied himself a five star chef, Ducky would never know. The bachelor father could barely boil water let alone prepare a well-balanced meal for five. Especially when one of the five was in the early stages of expectancy.

A soft smile touched his lips as flashes of the moment he gave Jennifer the news erupted in his mind. The awed light in her green eyes. The gentle smile that curved her lips. The warm glow that surrounded her. The slight quiver of her chin and the tremor in her voice as she passed the surprising but welcomed announcement on to Jethro. The rush of tears that followed similar trails down all their cheeks. He'd born witness to it. Vowed then and there to keep Jennifer and the tiny life growing inside of her as safe as his years of medical experience allowed. Even if that meant prying the spatula from Fornell's cold hand. But first, perhaps a quick check on his dear friends was in order.

Reversing course in mid-stride, Ducky ran through the list of foods most appropriate for a mother-to-be still in her first trimester. Something from each of the food groups at every meal. A healthy dose of folic acid. Plenty of bed rest. The perfect prescription for the young lady he looked on as a daughter. Of course, getting the rather driven red head to slow down would be harder than…

Contentment pushed a chuckle to the back of his throat. He stepped into the next compartment. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought. For a long moment he just stood and watched them sleep – thrilled to be privileged to witness such moments between his dearest friends. To observe the intimacies hidden from all but a select few. He doubted seriously he would ever tire of such scenes.

"Awww." Abigail's voice interrupted his reverie. "They look so cute. So…"

"Perfectly matched?" Ducky provided.

"Yeah." A whisper of a sigh edged her voice. "Seeing them like this makes me almost believe everything would be all right."

Ducky caught her hand and offered a reassuring squeeze. "It will be, my dear. Just have a little faith. In us. In them. In God." He swallowed the sudden lump of emotion blocking his throat. "He hasn't brought them this far to let anything happen now."

Abby stooped a little so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Her wide eyed innocence a welcomed reprieve from the danger still surrounding them. "I hope you are right, Ducky." Warm tears penetrated the oxford cloth of his shirt. "I do so hope you're right."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Laughter filled the back room of the tiny pub she and Jethro discovered during their first trip to London. She'd forgotten what a storyteller Ducky could be when aged scotch flooded the compartments of his memory.

Jenny took another sip of orange juice – not exactly her beverage of choice with dinner, but Dr. Mallard insisted – and looked at the group gathered around the table. Two weeks in and they were as congenial as always. Adjusting to the minor changes made to the op on an almost daily basis like they did this kind of thing on a daily basis. Even Abby handled it like an old pro…though with a little more exuberance than most field agents.

Of course the op wasn't the only thing on her mind at the moment. She smoothed her shirt over her belly before resting her hand on Jethro's thigh. Thankfully, the morning sickness was fleeting and over with by mid-morning. The exhaustion however was beginning to get the best of her. Stifling a yawn, she wondered if anyone would notice if she rested her head on her husband's shoulder and closed her eyes for just a few minutes. Thank God it wasn't much longer before the end of the first trimester.

January 13th. That was the date Ducky's calculations indicated as the day the newest Gibblet would arrive. She wondered just how much of his Scottish charm the good doctor had to use to procure the ultrasound equipment. Still, it was good to know when "D" Day was…if everything went well.

A soft sigh helped push the need for sleep aside for the moment. Try as she might, Jenny just couldn't always keep the dark thoughts at bay. But years of disappointment just wouldn't let her. Her father's suicide. The way she left Jethro, choosing career over the man she had tried not to love. She'd hurt them both with that decision. And although he'd forgiven her. Had loved her in spite of it, could he really survive the loss of their child? Could their relationship? Could she?

His warm hand covered hers, his fingers fitting between hers like the precise dovetails on his boat. He squeezed gently for a moment then leaned forward, his breath stirring her hair and his lips tickling the shell of her ear. "We're going to be fine, Jen."

Never doubt the intuition of a Marine. At least that's what he told her repeatedly over the years. And here he was, proving it to her all over again. Somehow he knew the darkness was encroaching. So he stepped into the breech and turned it aside. Protected them. Just like he always did. And if it weren't for the small audience around their table, she would show him just how much she appreciated that particular ability.

"I want details."

So completely lost in thought, Jenny didn't know Abby was talking to her until she noticed the sparkling hazel eyes focused on her. Casually taking another sip of juice, she tried not to look as flustered as she felt. "Details on what, Abby?"

The young scientist skewered her with a don't-play-coy-with-me glare. "You and Gibbs." Her eyes widened, the energy in their depths as intense as the slight bounce of her backside against the chair. "I wanna know everything. How he proposed. All about the wedding. If the man has a romantic bone in his body."

"Aw come on, Abs." Jethro leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. He looked a little sheepish and quite uncomfortable. "You don't really wanna hear that stuff do ya?"

Irritation flashed in Abby's eyes, a frown echoing her displeasure. "Yes." The reply was curt, to the point and so Gibbs-like, Jenny almost laughed.

Then the sunny Goth leveled an excited smile in her direction. For the first time in three years, she understood why the ex-sniper by her side seemed almost powerless when it came to the lab guru. Still, Jenny hesitated. She didn't want to make Jethro anymore –

"Please, please, please, please, please?" Abby bounced like a child begging for one more bedtime story.

Resistance was futile. "Okay. What do you want to know first?"

~.~.~.~.~

Abby was absolutely enthralled by Jen's storytelling ability. Elbows propped on the table. Chin resting on her upturned hands. Not for the first time, Jethro noted the similarities to Kelly. Maybe that's why he never argued when DiNozzo accused her of being the favorite. The simple truth was, he was right. She was.

Then there was Jenny. Watching her weave the story like an enchantress incanting a spell, there was no doubt she was going to make a great mom. And unlike with Shannon and Kelly, he would be there every step of the way. He'd missed too many moments like this in his life. Too many firsts and lasts. Well, not this time. He fanned his thumb across her knuckles and breathed in her voice. _Dear God, please. Not this time._

"So that's why you were so antsy during the whole Chimera incident." Abby sat up a little straighter, her excitement palpable. "I knew you were down in the lab a lot. And that you almost ripped Commander Skinner's head off when the communication link went down."

God, he loved the rosy blush staining his wife's cheeks. "I guess you could say I had my fair share of pre-wedding jitters."

"Pre-wedding jitters?" Ducky chuckled, his blue eyes filled with mischief. "I believe the scientific terminology is acute paranoia, my dear."

"Nah, Duck." Jethro leaned forward, allowing himself to be drawn back into the conversation. "Jen's not paranoid." He winked at his friends then cut his eyes back to his wife. "She's just plan crazy."

"Hey!" The contact of Abby's palm against his upper chest stung for almost a full minute after impact. "No picking on the pregnant woman."

In one gasp, Jethro proved it was possible to swallow your tongue. Spitting and sputtering, he had no choice but to leave the half-hearted denials to Jenny and Ducky.

Abby held up her hands in surrender, her eyes gleaming brighter than the constellations on a clear night. "You guys aren't the only ones with investigative experience." She crossed her arms and glowered at them. "I ran the blood tests, remember? It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together to come up with four. Even if you do leave the name off the sample." She smiled and reached across the table to clasp both his and Jenny's hand. "And I, for one, couldn't be happier." Releasing their hands, she leaned back. "Now back to the story. Where did you two get married?"

A trill interrupted Jen's description of the simple ceremony at the Marine Corps Museum at Quantico. Without looking, Jethro unclipped his phone and flipped it open. "Gibbs."

He tensed as Leon's voice emerged from the slight static on the line. "We've got a problem, Jethro." He could almost hear the toothpick shift between the director's teeth. "A big one."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Wow!"

Ducky chuckled when Abigail scooted closer to the door and pressed her nose to the Audi's darkened window. He should have expected the girl to be quite exuberant over their new accommodations. Despite the foggy mist from Loch Lomond, Boturich Castle was an impressive sight to behold. At least, he always thought it was.

Abby turned slowly, the tip of her nose a little pink from where it was squashed against the chilly glass. "Think there might be a vampire in the tower?"

Speared by green eyes dancing with fairy fire, he tried to contain his mirth. Only Miss Sciuto could possibly be excited by the prospect of a chance encounter with a bloodsucking member of the undead. "This is Scotland, my dear. Not Transylvania."

The incandescence in her eyes decreased by a candle or two and he felt a fleeting pang of guilty regret. The last thing any parent wanted was to disappoint their children. While not related by strands of DNA, the young lady beside him was most definitely his child. Or, at the very least his grandchild.

Searching for something to dislodge her disappointment, he was struck with images of the countryside he'd explored as a boy. Back when shadowy figures like Trent Kort truly were figments of his imagination spurred forth by the dam child of the mystic glens. Pushing down the unease swirled by the memory of the rogue operative, he managed a jovial wink for his young seatmate. "Though we may not have vampires or werewolves, we do have the mysteries of the fairy glens to whet you appetite for the supernatural."

Abby's eyes widened like a child who'd just glimpsed St. Nick and his sleigh. "Really?" Her whispered awe added to the tingle of joy near Ducky's heart. "What's a fairy glen?"

"Well." He leaned back against the seat and donned the mantle of storyteller. "A fairy glen is a magical valley shaded by towering alders and mountain ash where the wee folk play among the moss covered rocks…"

Jenny smiled as Ducky's near whisper produced as much magic as any Highland fairy could. One thing was sure, her children would never lack the vivid imagination fueled by a master wordsmith. She fanned her fingers across her barely there baby bump. _If we all survive this._

The gasp, like the thought, snuck up on her. Too many years of studying worst case scenarios had finally caught up with her. Always announcing themselves at the most unexpected times, they shattered the most peaceful moments. Damn Jethro for teaching her to be prepared for any inevitability. Didn't he know there were some eventualities that simply didn't need to be explored in order to maintain sanity?

On cue, her husband's larger hand covered hers. Eyes mirroring the blue-gray storm clouds outside the car glanced between her and the unfamiliar road he needed to navigate. "You okay?"

The shrug was a natural defense. A way to ward off probing questions before they formed. "Just thinking."

"Don'tcha know that's a dangerous habit, Jen?"

The laughter chasing his words helped a little. Lowered her apprehension a half-degree or so. A normal response to his jibe would be a smart pop on his bicep. But with her hand encased in his and the seatbelt snug against her other shoulder, she opted for a childish display of her tongue.

A belly-shaking chuckle rumbled from his side of the car and her anxiety meter took another dip. Not that he needed to know the effect he had on her. He could be cocky as hell as it was. Still, the gentle squeeze of his fingers turned her to putty.

"What were you thinking about?" He turned his head just long enough to give her his old don't-try-to-pull-my-chain glowers. "And don't say it's Duck's skill as a storyteller."

Jenny sighed. No reason to explain those were her thoughts until all the misgivings blindsided her. She was pretty sure her husband knew that already. "Just wondering how many more detours Trent Kort is going to take us on before he's dealt with once and for all."

Jethro lifted her hand to his lips and pressed butterfly soft kisses to each knuckle. "These aren't detours, sweetheart. They're just bumps in the road."

"Bumps in the road, huh?" Her laugh was a little hollower than she meant it to be. "Wish one of 'em was him."

Genuine amusement glinted in his eyes the next time he looked at her. "I just bet you do."

The picture her thoughts painted was quite comical. The fallen CIA stooge tied to the highway like the _Perils of Pauline_ and Jenny behind the wheel of a semi, motor revved to the red line. She smiled despite herself. "At least this whole thing would be over then." She sighed and tired not to let the dark thoughts creep back in. "How far is he going to push us, Jethro?" She turned to find the answers hidden somewhere in his face. "How many places are we going to have to run to?"

He lifted his shoulders then let them drop, his brow furrowed slightly and his smirk flattened into an almost frown. "Doesn't matter, Jen." Slowing the car to make the turn into the castle's drive, he caught her gaze and held it, honesty running the length of their tether and back. "There's no place too far, babe. None at all."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Jenny held her book on her lap and glanced at the page just often enough to make Jethro believe she was reading instead of watching him. Without his basement and boat to escape to, he spent most of his time pouring over the surveillance reports Fornell brought a few days after they arrived in Scotland. Although they were over two weeks old now, he scoured them like they were hot off the wire. While she thought the silence brought a well-deserved break from the tension surrounding them since before the incident at the diner, her husband deemed it the calm before the storm.

Even from her seat beside the warm fireplace, she could feel the chill of frustration radiating from him. Outside of the agency, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was one of the most patient men she knew. Sometimes, his kindness, compassion and forgiveness seemed endless. Their marriage and the life growing inside her was proof of that. But on the job… Well at least he was able to separate the two most of the time. Only now, the lines were blurred more than they ever had been.

"Somebody tell me I'm missing something." He closed the folder and laid it on the table beside his chair. No fanfare. No angry sneer or accusatory glare. No stormy flashes in his blue eyes. Just calm disappointment. "I've got to be missing something."

She never knew another's pain could cause such a deep ache in her own soul. Proud of his self-control, part of her wished he'd let go. Explode. Rant and rave. Show her he was still pissed and ready for a fight.

Not that there was anyone to fight with. That was the problem. After the sighting in Morocco and the nightclub explosion, Trent Kort disappeared, leaving a severely injured Ziva in his wake. That had been the last time Jethro lost his cool. Yelling at Fornell. Demanding the next flight to the African country. It had taken all four of them to calm him down enough to listen to reason.

Now Kort was off-grid again. Probably lying in wait ready to pounce the next tine his prey least suspected. Reading and re-reading those damn reports wouldn't change that. What she and her husband both needed was a little distraction.

Closing the book, Jenny slipped off her reading glasses. Without a word, he set both aside on the table by the chair then unfolded herself from the soft comfort of the overstuffed cushions. Once she gained her feet, she stretched the kinks from her back, noting with a fleeting swirl of butterflies the slight protrusion of her belly that wasn't there before they left London. Just more proof the world didn't stop turning just because the rogue CIA agent was still lurking. Something she fully intended to remind her husband of.

Bypassing her shoes, she padded across the room, the stone floor chilly beneath her stocking feet. Still, it was worth it when her approach went undetected until she wrapped her hands around his shoulders near the curve of his neck. His sharp intake of surprise quickly followed by a low hum as she worked the first knots from his taunt muscles.

Jenny worked in silence, kneading in a slow rhythm matched to their breathing. Only when Jethro lowered the file to the table did she release the words formed on the short trip across the room. "Sweetheart, why don't we take a break? Maybe walk down to Loch Lomond. Do a little exploring."

He turned just enough for her to see the gentle gleam in his slate blue eyes. "Trying to distract me, Jen?"

"Ummm-hmmm." She leaned closer, her breath forming tiny lines of goose bumps behind his ear and along one side of his neck. Dropping a kiss to the ones nearest the perfectly shaped shell, she nuzzled one of the two organs that captured every 'I love you' she ever uttered. "It is working?"

"Maybe."

But the slight shudder beneath her fingertips told a different story. A surge of bravery coiled then ricocheted through her limbs, making them nearly limp. Still, she tugged the folder from his hands and tossed it across the table. "We both know there's nothing in those files but what we already know." Slithering around the chair, she settled on the rounded leather arm, his hands spanning her waist. "Trent Kort was taking orders from Eli David while he was on La Grenouille's payroll." She wound her arms around his neck, the short hairs along the nape begging for her fingers to dance through them. "They ended their partnership when the arms dealer turned up with a bullet hole in his head."

"And as far as Eli was concerned, the evidence would be enough to achieve his goal." Jethro's voice was like a caress to the guilt she still carried over the roll she'd played in that case. "Only Trent wasn't satisfied just to ruin your career and have you removed from the Director's chair."

The dark fear stirred in the corner of her mind, urging her to hide from everything – including her husband's touch. But his grip tightened and she had no choice but to hold her ground. Face the images of what might have been if they hadn't figured out the plan early on.

For a moment, Jethro's steady gaze was too much to endure. She wasn't ready to see his trust. Wasn't ready to acknowledge that he held her blameless in this whole affair. Wasn't ready for the truth that slipped so easily past her lips despite her uncertainty. "I was the loose end he wanted permanently tied off."

A slight tug and she was in his lap, her eyes forced open by the unexpected movement. Once he caught her attention, she couldn't look away. Not with the shades of blue changing as they went from desire to compassion and back again, the cobalt stain of devotion never wavering. "I'd never let that happen, Jen."

The smile came easily. He never broke a promise. She brushed a few stray silver stands from his forehead then let her fingertips linger on his cheek. "I know you wouldn't, sweetheart." She bumped her lips against his then rested her head against the silky softness of his hair. "I know you won't."

"Not now. Not ever." His lips were as soft as his voice against her temple. She snuggled closer and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "Love you, Jen."

Gently, she pressed her fingertips to his chin, turning him until she could almost touch his lips with hers again. "And I love you, Jethro." A brief taste and she pulled away. "Always."

Distracted and utterly safe, she could stay in his arms like this all day. Just sit in the silence and enjoy –

A light tap on the door was the only preamble to the accented voice that slipped through the small crack between the edge of the door and the facing. "Jethro. When you and Jennifer get a moment, there's something I think you will be most interested in."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Following Ducky through the maze of corridors, Jethro tried to relax. Force his frustration into submission. Or at least replace the creased brow and slight frown with something a little less ominous. After all, it wasn't the good doctor's fault he couldn't shake the constant turmoil in his gut.

When he married Jenny, he was sure his scowl was a thing of the past – at least off the job. Then Trent Kort had to go loco and seek revenge on the people he saw as derailing his gravy train. By the time this whole mess was sorted out, he was afraid it would be permanently etched on his face.

By the time they hit the castle's cavernous lower level, curiosity began to edge the frustration. Where the hell was Ducky taking them? Some wild goose chase designed to distract and irritate at the same time no doubt. While it wouldn't work, the thought behind it was much appreciated.

As they moved into the small room housing the computer workstations manned by trusted MI-5 and MI-6 agents, the dissatisfaction intensified. If McGee, Ziva and Tony were here instead of scattered to the four winds. If Fornell and Abby didn't have to traipse across the whole damn country to maintain their cover, this whole situation would be over by now. Doing things half-assed like this never accomplished anything. At this rate, Kort might well be tailing their grandchildren.

"Here we are."

Ducky's sudden pronouncement jolted Jethro slightly. He squinted and tried to get his bearings. The door in front of him was unfamiliar. Although it was at the far end of the room he visited for almost hourly updates, he'd never noticed the age-darkened wood – the intricate carvings somewhere between ornate and ostentatious. "Where's here, Duck?"

A raised index finger and an elfish smile only intensified the twinkle in his old friend's eyes. "Patience, Jethro. Patience." Producing an ancient skeleton key from his pants' pocket, he winked then inserted the squared head into the lock.

Jethro's protective gene kicked in during the fleeting half-second before the door swung inward. Wedging himself between Jenny and the widening gap, every muscle tensed, ready to spring should some menace lurk in the shadows. However, only a strong antiseptic odor greeted him as the air of the smaller room rushed out to give fresher air space.

The medical examiner stepped over the threshold first. "Although it's been out of service since the Blitz, I assure you it's quite safe."

Taking Jenny's hand, Jethro cautiously peeked into the room, surveying the lay of the land before following Ducky inside. Glass front cabinets stocked with gauze, vials and bottles lined one wall. There was a sink in the corner with a white curtained screen nearby. An old but seemingly steady exam table was the most prominent feature in the room. Even the low stool looked like it belonged on the set of some black and white movie. The only touch of modern technology was a laptop housed on a stainless steel cart.

"While it's well used," Ducky chuckled. "It is functional. And as sterile as any operating theater at Bethesda." His chest swelled slightly. Made sure of that myself. Used the formula preferred by Dr. Lister himself." Almost without taking a breath, he launched into one of his stories. "Interesting thing about Dr. Lister…"

If allowed to, the man would spend the better part of the afternoon extolling the virtues of the original cleaning products over those of a more modern formulation. And while Jethro had indulged Ducky's penchant for storytelling on occasion, now was not one of them. Curiosity had gotten the better of him. "Dr. Mallard." The formal address worked its charm and the man stopped talking mid-sentence. "What are we doing here?"

"Ah, yes." Snapped back to the present, Ducky took Jenny's arm and led her to the table. Covered with a white sheet, Jethro couldn't evaluate the integrity of the wood. The protest formed quickly, but so did Ducky's next sentence.

"I've procured some Doppler equipment form a local doctor I went to school with in Edinburgh." He assisted the former director onto the table. "Thought we might do a quick check-up, my dear. See if the wee one will cooperate and let us listen to its heartbeat." Satisfied that the mother-to-be was safely ensconced on the narrow bed, he moved around to the cart. "So if you'll lay back and relax, Jennifer…"

With the speed and stealth of the sniper he was, Jethro moved to his wife's side. Helped her lay back then took her hand, the surge of excitement and anxiety almost buckling his knees. What if they didn't hear the heartbeat? Would it mean there was something wrong? Or was it just to early to hear it? What if Ducky found…"

It took every ounce of self-discipline drilled into him by the Corps to keep the fear from filling the heavy silence. He swallowed. Adding to the tension he felt in Jen's fingers as they trembled against his knuckles was definitely not the route take.

He'd missed this moment with Shannon. Like so many other firsts, duty kept him away. But not this time. This time he wanted to experience everything with Jen. Made her that promise the day they found out she was pregnant. But now that one of those moments was here…

A loud, fast but regular whoosh, whoosh, whoosh filled the room. In perfect sync with the flashing red digital heart in the corner of the computer screen, the sound filled him with enough awe to push tears to the brink of his lashes.

Jenny squeezed his hand and he forced himself to refocus on her. While she was always breathtaking, with their baby's heartbeat in the background, she was beyond anything words like beautiful could describe. Wide green eyes stared at the monitor. Her chin quivered and her tears breeched her long, dark lashes. "Jethro," she whispered, turning to face him.

No other words were needed. Surprise. Excitement. Devotion. Love. It was all right there shining in those emerald depths. He leaned over and answered the only way he could – a light brush of his lips against hers then a lopsided grin that would permanently replace the scowl he'd worked so hard to erase.

Despite everything, darkness wouldn't win. It couldn't. Not with the spark of life thriving in his Jenny's belly.

~.~.~.~.~

Eli David scoured the latest intelligence reports from the Morocco bombing. Anger surged as he read Michael's case report. "Best officer my ass," he growled.

Slamming the file closed, he took off his glasses and closed his eyes. The pressure applied to the bridge of his nose by his index finger and thumb was ineffective against the dull ache between his temples. He should have known better than to trust Rivkin with the mission. The man was reckless. Determined by reckless.

While the quality had served Mossad well in the past this time, it had almost cost Ziva's life. Add that to the fact the target escaped unscathed…

A sharp knock on the office door halted his train of thought. "Enter," he mumbled.

His eyes opened with the first creak of the hinges. Straightening, he settled his glasses back on his nose and trained his gaze on the widening shaft of florescent light. A second later, the visitor's shadow crossed the beam's path.

With a satisfied by silent sigh, Eli noted the bandage on the hairless temple then the right arm encased in plaster and held tightly to the broad chest by a dark sling. The target had escaped, but obviously not without injury. That made things a little more palatable.

"What brings you here, my friend?"

With a menacing sneer, Trent Kort closed the door and took a step or two closer. "We need to talk about Jenny Shepard."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Merry Christmas, all! Hope you continue to enjoy the story.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

The transponder on the tailfin blinked in a steady rhythm. Almost as if it were monitoring the plane's vitals. Or trying to lure Leon into a false sense of security. Not that he felt completely at ease with Eli David despite trusting the man with his life.

Scanning the tarmac for any sign of trouble, he willed the jet's door to open. A mostly deserted airfield wasn't the most appealing meeting place in the best of times. Of all the times for the Israeli to insist on a face to face meet. With the recent security alerts, this bordered on the suicidal. Then again, the Director of Mossad always seemed to have a death wish. Leon just hoped, for once, he wasn't caught up as collateral damage.

A seam of light appeared between the hatch and the fuselage. He started the SUV's engine, flashed the lights and inched forward. If his training held, the vehicle would reach the aircraft as Eli made his way down the steps. There shouldn't be more than a second's worth of exposure. Even the most skilled assassin needed longer than that to set up a shot. _Let this op go as planned._

Almost before the thought completed, the passenger door opened and Eli David slid into the seat. "Shalom, Leon."

Shifting the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, Leon studied his friend for a moment. There was something unsettling just beneath the calm confidence. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Been awhile, Eli."

A wry smile followed a soft chuckle. "Far too long, my friend." Eli shifted in the seat, tugging on his jacket where the material wadded between the console and the seatbelt latch. "How have you been?"

"Be better if you'd explain why we had to meet like this." Leon chewed on the strip of wood, his eyebrows inching slowly higher. "Ever heard of a phone call. We can even encrypt them now."

His counterpart leaned back and rested his head against the molded restraint. "Sometimes one cannot trust technology." A dark light crossed his eyes. "No matter how secure one thinks it is."

The knot tightened in his middle. "Care to enlighten me, Eli?"

Staring out into the encroaching night, the top Mossad officer hesitated for a moment. "This is much more complicated than we thought, Leon."

Leon sighed. "When is it not." He glanced in the rearview mirror then checked each side mirror. The familiarity of the routine calmed him. Made him more focused. And God knows he needed to be focused. "How much more complicated?"

David cleared his throat and reached into the inside pocket of his coat. "Trent Kort has been neutralized." Without meeting Leon's eyes, he held his hand out. The tiny flash drive seemed smaller in his large palm. "But before he was dealt with, he passed on Intel we previously did not have."

As if he were handling a bomb, Leon took the device from his friend's hand. Held it between his thumb and index finger for a second then dropped it into his coat pocket. Looked like McGee would have a little after hours work coming his way. While he would have answers before Eli left the SUV, he would need verification. Assurance that things weren't manipulated. "What's on here?"

"Kort admitted he was behind the assassination attempt. He was responsible for Natasha knowing the whereabouts of Gibbs' former team…"

"We knew that." Leon shifted the toothpick again; the roughness of the wood against his tongue helped him to think. "This was how he could get his revenge for the whole La Grenouille debacle without getting his hands dirty."

Eli smirked. "So one would think, my friend." A shadow passed across the Israeli's eyes. Almost as if dark memories stirred in their depths. "But this had nothing to do with the arms dealer. Trent Kort was paid by someone inside NCIS to get rid of the Director, Leon."

Things suddenly swam into focus. The Intel he received before he left California. SecNav insisting he clean house. Bile boiled in the back of his throat. How could he keep his promise to Gibbs – to himself – when there was a traitor in his midst? "Think I should keep Gibbs abroad until we identify the risk?"

The man who had earned his trust so long ago shook his head. "One way to keep a snake from striking is to stand out in the open. Let him know you are there. And that you know he's there. Keep your distance, but let him know." Something akin to uncertainty flashed across his face. "Bring them home, Leon. All of them. They are stronger together than apart."

No argument there. Gibbs' team was the best. Not only would they keep Jenny Shepard safe, they would find the traitor. No question about that. And their loyalty to the agency and to each other was unbreakable. Bringing them home was the answer. After he took care of some unfinished business that had landed in his lap the minute he took his place in the Director's chair.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay and the shortness of this post. Seems the holidays resulted in a mild case of writer's block. But hopefully the muse is back and raring to go.

Thanks for all the reviews and for continuing to read. There are at least two more chapters to this story. Perhaps a few more than that. Just depends on how far the story needs to go before it is complete enough to end while leaving enough for a sequel or two.

Well, enough from me...now on with the story!

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

Wild roses mingled with the charred aroma of cookout staples. Inhaling, Jenny rested her chin on Jethro's shoulder as she waited for him to finish with the bowl of potato salad so she could add some to her rapidly filling plated. "This is nice."

While a picnic on the banks of Loch Lohman wasn't exactly a Capital Fourth, it was close second. She added a dollop of the lumpy side dish alongside her burger and backed beans then passed the container across the table to Abby. With her husband and three of their dearest friends around, it was a much more peaceful Independence Day than it could have been. And for that alone, she was grateful. "The only thing missing is the fireworks.

Abby giggled. Energy sparked from the hazel depths of her eyes and the slight bumping of her backside against the picnic table's bench. Part of Jenny hoped her own child never lost the childlike exuberance so often exhibited by the forensic world's version of Peter Pan.

"Just wait 'til sundown, Jenny." The Goth nudged Ducky then spooned some of the potato mixture onto her plate. "Isn't that right, Ducky."

"It is indeed, Abigail." The medical examiner's grin and the twinkle in his blue eyes might be a little more sedate but was just as full of mischief as his cohort's. "While we may not be the Grucci family, I can ensure you it will be quite a spectacle."

Jenny felt the amused reply before she glanced at her husband. Before she noted his lips twitch slightly. For all his stoicism and icy no nonsense glares, Leroy Jethro Gibbs had a rare sense of timing and a wry wit. The bubble of laughter started its ascent before the words left his throat.

"With you and Abs involved, Duck, there's no doubt."

Despite Abby's narrowed eyes and Ducky's slight frown, the warm Highland air filled with a contagious laughter that soon sucked even the two scientists into the fray. How great it felt to forget the stresses of the past weeks. To put aside the troubles nipping at their heels. To pretend life was normal, even for just a day.

"Keep laughing like that and the food's gonna get cold." Fornell added another platter of grilled burgers and hotdogs to the table then slid into the empty space beside Jenny. "And I spent too much time over a hot grill to let this food go to waste."

A familiar shadow completed with protruding toothpick passed over the table before a snappy reply could form on any lips. "Then it's a good thing I didn't postpone my trip until tomorrow."

The few bites Jenny managed between the giggles became the core of the knots that instantly formed. Jethro tensed before he turned, both he and the other men gathered at the table slowly standing. "Leon." Jethro nodded. "Thought you'd be spending the Fourth with the family."

The smirk always shading Leon's lips quivered into an almost smile. "So did I." He nodded toward the group sitting around the table. "But I thought I'd better grant some freedom before I celebrated it."


End file.
